


On The Qui Vive

by celticheart72



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Aftermath of Sexual Assault, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complete, Counter Sex, Creepy Behavior, Declan being protective, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Kitchen Sex, Mentions of rape and murder, Missing Persons, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Nudity, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Protectiveness, Self-Inflicted Injury, Sex, Stalking, Staring, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, ass pinching, mutual fonding, rape kit process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticheart72/pseuds/celticheart72
Summary: Sadism lurks in every corner and for Briar Linsley that corner is the NYC subway and a man she knows only as Twitchy. She's ridden the same subway car for ten years without issue until he shows up and fixates on her. Then fate brings Declan Murphy into her life they begin a relationship that feels like it was meant to be. But when Twitchy finally has an opportunity to act will it be too late for Declan and Briar?The title is a sentry challenge meaning Who goes there? It also refers to a state of heightened vigilance.THIS FIC IS COMPLETESpecial thanks to ivy475 who beta read and edited this fic for me as well as athena83 who also beta read. <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter: creepy behavior from one man

I’ve been riding the subway between the Manhattan veterinary clinic I run with my partner and my apartment on Utica Avenue in Brooklyn for ten years. Never once have I had a problem. I’m not a delicate flower kind of woman. I know self-defense and I can handle myself if I need to, but I have no delusions to invincibility. My figure is somewhat overweight for my frame, which I would describe as curvy; I’ve got boobs, hips, and ass. It’s always been my opinion that my figure combined with my chestnut hair and hazel eyes makes me unique but perhaps less appealing to most of the men in New York City. Of course, much of that probably also has to do with the fact that I’m usually exhausted and wearing scrubs when I meet any man I might want to date. 

Somehow, despite all of these things I think I have going against me, I managed to attract the attention of a creepy stalker guy. I have taken to calling him Twitchy in my mind. He has greasy black hair, a round face with squinty eyes, and his hands are always fidgeting in his pants pockets. I can’t really tell if he’s scrawny or muscular because his clothes are baggy, which makes me even more uncomfortable. He could have anything stuffed in those pockets or be jacking off for all I know, and my imagination makes me paranoid. 

Every time I work past six, which is nearly every weekday, and get on the subway to go home, he’s here. Thankfully, when I get off he stays, so I don’t have to worry about him following me home. Except, he watches me the entire time I’m in the car, and it makes me really uneasy. Maybe he’s harmless and has no concept that the way he’s looking at me isn’t exactly a simple friendly glance. At least, that’s my hope. 

One night, the subway car isn’t as crowded as it usually is, and Twitchy is here. He’s blatantly staring at me, and I pull the hoodie I’m carrying on so I feel less exposed to his eyes. I’ve started wearing a t-shirt under my scrub tops because he seemed fixated on my chest for a while. Sighing, I look at my watch. It’s just after 8 p.m. and all I want to do is get home so I can get into a hot salt bath. When the subway stops at Utica, I get off and walk the last block home. Thankfully, he remains on the car.

When I get on the next night, late again, Twitchy is here as usual, but he’s wearing a hoodie I’ve never seen before. There’s also another man sitting toward the back of the car in black pants and boots, a charcoal grey suit jacket with a light pinstripe, and a white dress shirt with the top button undone. He’s wearing black framed glasses, his auburn hair is kind of shaggy but neatly combed back, and he’s got a short, full beard that’s a lighter auburn shot with grey. There’s a leather messenger bag next to him and he’s reading something in a manilla folder.

Every so often, his eyes, which appear blue, lift over the rim of his glasses to scan what’s going on around him. Something about him makes me feel a little more at ease with Twitchy in the same car. It’s odd and I can’t really place what it is about this particular man that makes me feel that way. There have been other people, other men, in the car with me before when Twitchy is here, but none of them have given me any sense that they would intervene if something happened. This one does.

Tonight, Twitchy is fidgeting more than he normally does. I can see him turning something over in his hands inside the front pocket of the hoodie he’s wearing, and his eyes keep lifting to me, then looking at the floor. It’s like he’s planning something, and I wonder if I’m being paranoid. So when the subway stops at Utica and Twitchy gets off too, it scares the shit out of me. He’s never done that before, and it scares me enough that I panic. The only thing I can think to do is jump right back onto the car just before the doors close. I’m trying not to look right at him standing on the platform, but I can’t help but notice he looks pissed.

“You alright?” The auburn haired man is looking at me with concern, and he’s pushed his glasses to the top of his head.

I glance between him and the subway doors, praying that Twitchy can’t get back on the car, and breathe a sigh of relief when we start moving again. “Yeah, I just wasn’t paying attention and missed my stop.” 

Honestly, I don’t want to admit to the man that it was, in fact, my stop and some weird dude just scared the crap out of me. Of course, now I have to ride all the way to the end of the line and then back to Utica, probably another hour or more. We’re alone on the car now, and I can actually breathe easily. Something deep inside of me tells me this man isn’t a threat to me.  

What I don’t notice is how his eyes caught sight of Twitchy watching me from the platform.

He goes back to what he was reading and doesn’t say anything else to me. Two stops away, he gets off with a slight dip of his chin my way as he steps out of the car, and I ride to the end and back to Utica. Fortunately, I don’t see Twitchy anywhere, so I get off and make my way home. It’s nearly 10 p.m. when I get there and I’m exhausted, so I just go straight to bed without even bothering with dinner.

Several days later, I’m on the subway home again, and while the auburn-haired man is there, Twitchy is not. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Not that I want to see Twitchy ever again, but his absence worries me. It’s been raining and the man is wearing a long raincoat over a blue dress shirt, again open at the collar, and black pants and boots. He has the look of a college professor, and I smile at the thought. 

When he sees me, he smiles and pushes his glasses to the top of his head. “Hello again. Did you make it home alright the other night?”

I sit down on one of the seats perpendicular to where he is, far enough away that we’re not on top of each other, but close enough we can talk. “I did. It took another hour and a half, but I got there.”

He bobs his head and gives me a speculative look while holding out his hand. “I’m glad to know you made it home safely. I’m Declan Murphy, by the way.”

Smiling I reach my hand out to him, which he takes in his larger one. His handshake is firm but gentle. “Briar Linsley.”

“Briar? That’s an unusual name.” 

“So is Declan.”

“You have me there.” He scrunches his face up as he runs his hand over his beard. “It’s a good Irish name.”

I can’t help but laugh. It’s obvious he’s implying his red hair was a clue to his Irish heritage. “I wish I could say the same of Briar. Alas, I was named after Sleeping Beauty.”

When I roll my eyes for emphasis, he laughs, and it’s full of warmth when he does. My breath catches in my throat as I notice how the smile on his face really brings out how handsome he is.

“You work at a hospital?” He motions his hand to the blue scrubs I’m wearing. 

Looking down at myself, I rock my head back and forth. “Sort of; I’m a veterinarian, so it’s an animal hospital.”

We then talk about animals and the city, and when the subway stops at Utica, I almost loathe to get off the car, but I’m tired.

“I thought this wasn’t your stop.” Declan is eyeing me as I get up and move to the doors.

_ Uh oh _ . Smiling sheepishly, I bounce my shoulders. “I was exhausted the other night and wasn’t paying attention.”

He doesn’t look like he believes me but waves back as I smile and wave while making my way onto the subway platform. The car leaves for its next destination, and I look around. Twitchy isn’t here, so I make my way home.

Again, I don’t notice how Declan’s eyes scan the subway platform before I get off the car.

Several minutes later, a distraught man runs down the stairs to the subway platform carrying a handful of papers. He looks around frantically before he starts showing one of the papers to the people milling around, especially the ones getting on and off the car when it stops. People keep shaking their heads, barely looking at the paper in his hands. Finally, he gets frustrated and tapes one up to a column. It's a picture of a dark-haired woman with green eyes. Under the picture in bold letters is written, **_‘MISSING SINCE THURSDAY’_** _._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: More creepy behavior from Twitchy

Over the next few weeks, I spend my subway ride home getting to know Declan Murphy. He loves soccer (as any good Irish boy should, he tells me), has traveled the world, doesn’t drink, loves the outdoors, and has a three-year-old daughter named Jesse. I actually believe him when he says he’s not married and doesn’t have a girlfriend. When I ask him what he does for a living, he leans forward and whispers that he’s an undercover Manhattan vice cop. 

Frankly, I still think he’s a college professor. Declan isn’t domineering or boastful. Rather, he’s calm and has a commanding presence that just doesn’t scream vice cop to me; it screams teacher. I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever even been in a fight. 

It’s been nearly three weeks since I’ve seen Twitchy, and I think perhaps he’s given up his fascination with me; until I get on the subway car and he’s there but Declan is noticeably absent. I do my best to fade into a corner but his eyes are on me. The hoodie from last time is missing, but his clothes are still baggy and he’s still fidgeting in his pockets. When the car stops at Utica, I wait to see what he’s going to do and just before the doors close, I slip out of the car onto the platform. Twitchy stares at me until the car is out of sight, and I leave the subway and walk home. 

I call my local precinct once I get there and am told, in a sanctimonious tone, that unless Twitchy actually does something to me they can’t do anything; staring might be rude but it’s not criminal and it’s not stalking. As I hang up the phone, I wonder what he’s going to say if I have to call him back after something does happen. I’m left with a bad taste in my mouth and thinking this is where the victim shaming starts. Granted, I’m not a victim; at least I don’t think I am, but an ounce of prevention, right? 

The next day, I buy a small canister of pepper spray on my lunch break and put it on my keychain. I’ve just got to remind myself to keep my keys in my hand or it’s not going to do me any good if Twitchy tries something. As I’m walking back to the clinic, I can’t help but wonder again if I’m just being paranoid.

When I get on the subway car that evening, the first thing I see is Twitchy. I make sure my keys are in my hand as I step onto the car and turn to where Declan normally is. He’s sitting in his usual spot, arms folded over his chest, and his left ankle is resting over his right knee. I see his eyes pinch for a brief second as he looks at my hand before I hide the pepper spray in my palm and move to sit in the seat against the main wall immediately diagonal to him. 

“Evening darlin’.” At first, I’m startled by his use of the pet name, something he’s never called me before. He leans forward to my ear facing the wall, and I’m sure it looks like he’s a boyfriend leaning in to give his girlfriend an affectionate peck. The hair of his beard tickles my cheek and ear as he whispers, “What’s with the pepper spray?”

I can’t help it, I lean my cheek against him as I respond. Not wanting to lie, I also don’t want to tell him the entire truth; which is what? That a man who hasn’t done anything other than stare and get off a subway car at my stop once in the last several months has me so paranoid, I felt the need to get a self-defense spray? Declan is bound to think I’m afraid of my own shadow if I tell him that. “I walk alone at night in Manhattan and Crown Heights. I just thought it was a good idea.”

He pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes, and it’s then that I finally realize his eyes are a clear crystal blue. Declan is studying me, and I start to wonder if maybe he wasn’t kidding about being a cop. My legs are crossed, and I have my hands resting just above my knee. I feel Declan’s hand close over mine and his eyes pinch again. His voice is still a whisper when he speaks. “Why are you shaking then?”

“Maybe you make me nervous?” It’s a poor joke and makes him sit up straight and back into his seat away from me immediately. I reach a hand out to his knee and smile. “Declan, I’m teasing. You really don’t make me nervous. If anything, you make me feel safer.”

His chin lifts slightly as his head tilts to the side, and I watch his eyes flick behind me then back. I’m afraid to know what Twitchy is doing so I don’t turn my head. Instead, I just focus on Declan, who leans forward again but doesn’t touch me this time. “What is making you nervous then, darlin’?”

“Nothing. I just haven’t eaten since…” I lift my arm to look at my watch and realize it’s a little earlier than normal but still nearly eight hours since I ate last. “... 11 a.m.? And I’ve gotten home so late the last few days I haven’t even bothered with dinner. So my blood sugar is probably on the verge of sending me into a coma.” Not a lie, but not what’s making me nervous, either.

One eyebrow arches and he purses his lips. “How would you feel about riding to my stop and having dinner with me? I know an Irish Pub that serves the best Irish Stew and soda bread this side of the Atlantic. I can drive you home afterward? Or put you in a cab if you’d prefer.”

I don’t even need to think about it. “I’d love that.” Then my face falls as I remember my current state. Hair pulled back into a messy bun, blue scrubs, white tennis shoes, and a cranberry colored hoodie tied around my waist that says ‘Don’t piss me off. Neutering is part of my job’.

Declan sees my obvious distress and smiles with a shake of his head as he sits back again. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You’re gorgeous.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I look between the glasses sitting on top of his head and his amused blue eyes. “I think you need to put your glasses back on.”

That causes him to chuckle. It’s deep and warm and makes me smile as he slides his glasses down to his eyes and holds one side of them while he squints at me. “Nope, still gorgeous.” Some of his auburn hair has fallen forward and he sweeps it back with a hand, then pushes his glasses back to the top of his head again.

The subway car comes to a stop at Rockaway and Declan stands up. “Come on, this is us.”

I stand and move to the door, my back to Twitchy, who I’ve basically forgotten about at this point, and don’t even notice when Declan puts himself between the two of us. When we’re out of the subway car, Declan inclines his head to the stairwell in front of us and offers me his elbow. I wrap my hand around the inside of his forearm, and he snugs his arm tight to his side as we walk. It’s not until I’m standing next to him that I realize he’s nearly a foot taller than me and he smells  _ really good _ . He’s also got more muscle than I expected, though he’s soft, too; essentially, a big strong teddy bear of a man, and I feel myself flush, which thankfully, he can’t see in the illumination of the street lights.

The pub he takes me to is a small hole in the wall that’s relatively quiet on a Thursday night, except for a soccer game on TV. We sit across from each other in a booth, he positions himself to see the entire room, and a waitress brings us menus and takes our drink orders. I open the menu and find I can’t decide, it all looks so good. I’m so engrossed in the food choices that, apparently, I miss something Declan says to me because I see a finger pulling my menu down until I can see his face.

“Briar, please tell me you’re not one of those women that’s afraid to eat in front of her date?” 

“What?!” The fact that he’s using my first name again and calling this a date doesn’t escape my notice and a light chuckle escapes my mouth. “Why would you ask that?”

“The horror in your eyes when you realized you were still in your work clothes after you agreed to have dinner with me.”

“Maybe I’m a little self-conscious. I’m not exactly a beauty queen.” I shrug as the waitress drops our drinks in front of us. 

His eyes hold mine, and I hear the waitress ask if we’re ready to order. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes...why?”

Declan takes my menu and hands both back to the waitress. “Two Irish Stews and plenty of soda bread.”

She nods and walks off to put our order in, and I can’t help the quirk of my mouth on one side.

Leaning forward, Declan rests his forearms on the table. “And you don’t have anything to be self-conscious about. I was serious when I said you’re gorgeous. I like honesty, real.” His eyes scan the room before he continues. “Society pigeon-holes women into unrealistic expectations of beauty and body image. The last thing I want is you starving yourself because you think I’m not gonna want a second date if you eat like a normal person.”  

That makes me smile more than anything any man has said to me in...well...I can’t even remember when. “So this  _ IS _ a first date then?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches a hand across the table. When I put my hand in his, he rubs his thumb over my knuckles. “If you want it to be, then absolutely. If you don’t, that’s fine. We’ll just keep riding the subway together.”

I give his hand a squeeze and practically melt at the affectionate way he continues to rub his thumb over my knuckles. “Believe me, Declan. I’d like nothing more than for this to be our first date. But…” 

His eyes pinch and his lips disappear as he watches my face.

“...I’d like to wear something other than my work scrubs for our second date.”

Declan’s other hand reaches over and pats the top of our joined hands as he laughs. “Fair enough.”

“Lieutenant Declan Murphy!” An older man with an obvious Irish accent walks over to the table and smiles down on Declan, who stands to hug him.

“Conor! Good to see you back here. And it’s actually Captain now. You’ve been gone awhile.”

“Aye, that I have, lad. Captain, eh? When did that happen?”

“About six months ago. Jesse’s getting too big too fast for me to be leaving New York as much as I was when I was undercover. So I took a promotion and bought a house.”

Conor is nodding at Declan with a huge smile on his face before he turns to look my way. “And who is this lovely lass?”

“Conor, this is Briar. Briar, meet Conor O’Shea. He owns this place.”

I smile and stand to offer my hand and am swept up off my feet in a bear hug. Declan winces and mouths ‘sorry’ at me, to which I just wave my hand at him with a smile. Conor is old school Irish; everyone gets a hug and I’m fine with that. When he puts me down on my feet and I can breathe again, I smile up at the man. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. O’Shea.”

He shakes his head with an affectionate finger pointed at my nose. “None of this Mr. O’Shea nonsense, lass. You’re with Declan, you call me Conor.”

“Alright, Conor. Thank you.”

With that, he puts a hand to Declan’s shoulder and gives it a shake. “Congratulations, Declan. You deserve some happiness. Let me check the kitchen, see where your dinners are.” 

I watch him wander back to the kitchen with a smile and sit back down. Tilting my head, I study Declan, who I still can’t see as an undercover police officer. “So you really are a Manhattan police officer?”

“That’s what I told you.” He shifts to lean forward over the table again. “What did you think I was?”

“A college professor.”

“Seriously?”

“You just have that kind of look.”

“I’m not sure whether to be intrigued or if my feelings should be hurt.”

“Awwww…” Standing up, I lean forward over the table with the intention to press a kiss to his cheek and tell him college professors can be sexy, too. Just as my lips brush his beard, he turns his head and our lips touch. It’s soft and electric at the same time, and I don’t think one single kiss has ever affected me quite the way this one is. I lift my hand to my lips when he breaks the kiss, and our eyes meet. “Intrigued...definitely intrigued.”

Before Declan can say a word, Conor is back with a tray bearing two large bowls and a round loaf of brown bread. I sit back down as the older man gives us a smile and a knowing look and proceeds to set bowls, spoons, bread, butter, and a bread knife in front of us. He tells Declan our dinner is on him for some favor Declan had done for him some time ago and wanders off again. 

We talk about anything that comes to mind except for that kiss, and by the end of the meal, I honestly feel like I’ve known Declan forever. The man has an easy way about him that’s not forced or domineering, but he also exudes a confidence not a lot of men do. I find myself falling for him after a little less than a month of knowing him, and it feels right. 

After dinner, we say goodnight to Conor and walk out into the cool night air. I untie my hoodie and pull it over my head. Declan even takes my purse from my hand rather than let me try to juggle it or set it on the ground. When he hands it back after I’ve settled the hoodie in place, he moves to stand in front of me and pulls the ribbing on the bottom down so he can read it. 

He nods as he does and pulls his lips between his teeth. Those blue eyes of his lift to my face. “Remind me not to piss you off, darlin’.”

I giggle and he sticks his hands in his pockets as he moves next to me. Reaching up, I loop my hand around his elbow again, and we walk the few blocks to his neighborhood. He has a ranch style house with a small yard, but it’s nice and well kept. I can’t really see a lot of detail because it’s fairly dark, and even with the porch light on the house is vague. There is a small SUV in the driveway, and he goes to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I’m stunned speechless. I’ve never had anyone, let alone a date, do that. There’s actually jazz on the radio when he starts the SUV, and we ride to my apartment building mostly in comfortable silence, except for my directions. 

When he’s parked in front, he turns the SUV off and shifts in his seat to look at me. “This is the part of the date where I ask for your phone number, or I give you mine; whichever you prefer.”

Smirking, I pull my cell phone out of my bag and unlock it. Holding it up, I focus on his face and snap a picture.

“What are you doing?”

I put his picture into a contact then hand him the phone. “So when you call or text me I can see your handsome face.”

He’s grinning and shaking his head as he types his number in and hands me back the phone. 

It doesn’t escape me that he didn’t call or text himself, leaving it my choice whether or not to give him my number. I have to wonder if this is just how he is or a by-product of the things he’s seen in his career. Something tells me it’s a little of both. So I open up a text message and type a little message and send it to him. “And now you have my number.”

The message I sent him says  _ Thank you, Professor Murphy, for the best first date _ . He reads it and laughs, lifting his head to look at me with a grin on his face. “I’ll get you back for that one.”

I lean over the console between us and kiss him. The little electric tingles are back, and this time his hand reaches up to curl around the back of my neck. Our tongues touch and I’m hoping he might explore my mouth, but he doesn’t push it that far. If he had, I might have asked him to come upstairs with me, and that would definitely be a first. I’ve always been the girl that had to know the guy for several months before feeling comfortable enough to get naked with him, and it’s been at least a year since my last boyfriend.

He breaks the kiss and I hum. My lips are tingling again. 

Declan sits back up and points to the front of the building. “Does one of your windows face the street?”

I point to the second floor to the right of the building entrance. “Yes, those two there.”

“Open the window and yell down to me when you’re safe in your apartment.”

I nod as I get out of the SUV and make my way to my apartment. After yelling down to Declan and watching him drive off, I can still feel his lips on mine. Sighing, I can’t help but feel like it’s going to be a BOB night, and I close the window before heading off to my bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: flirting, sexual teasing, ass pinching, Declan being protective, Twitchy being creepy

Over the next week, Declan and I text each other occasionally during the day, mostly just to say good morning with the random _Hope your day is going better than mine_. The first of those comes from Declan along with a selfie of him holding a donut up to each of his eyes. I’m not sure if he is making a cop in the donut shop joke or implying it’s a circus at the precinct. I send him a similar text the next day with a picture of me pouting and cradling a little mutt who I neutered that morning. His empty testicle sac with the closed incision is clear in the picture. Poor Declan texts me back with _Really need to remember NOT to piss you off. That pouty lip is sexy though. xx_

When I get on the subway car to go home in the evenings, I make my way back to where he is and sit next to him. I kiss him after sitting down, usually on his scruffy cheek because he’s reading some file or writing a report, and as the car stops at Utica he smiles and gives me a quick goodnight kiss. His kisses still leave my lips tingly. I can’t help but want more, but we don’t have time for lingering on the subway. Before I get off the car he reminds me to text him when I get home safe. Even though he knows I will, he says it anyway.

On those rides between my stops, his eyes occasionally lift from what he’s doing to scan the car, then he focuses on me and smiles. Sometimes, we talk about whatever comes to our minds; Other times, I just lean into him and enjoy the way he smells and feels while he’s working on one of those files of his. He doesn’t answer many questions about his job. Most of his precinct’s investigations are undercover and he doesn’t want to subject me to the darker side of society’s depravity, he explains. I understand and ask him to be safe, to which he replies, “Always am”, and then kisses my temple as if to reassure me. We make plans for Saturday night, dinner at a restaurant in Manhattan near Central Park, and I’m ridiculously excited about our date.   

I try to keep my mind off Twitchy. Once again he’s here every time I get on the car, and he looks more and more...well...twitchy. His lips move like he’s talking to himself, and I don’t even want to _think_ about what he’s doing with his hands. Having Declan on the car with me certainly makes me feel a lot safer. Without even realizing, I’ve stopped carrying the pepper spray.

Saturday comes sooner than I’m expecting, and I have a hard time deciding what to wear for my date with Declan. This is literally going to be the very first time he will see me in something other than my work scrubs. I finally settle on a black lace dress I bought a while back when I was feeling brave. Of course, I’ve never worn it because I’m not actually as brave as I felt when I bought the damn thing. It’s sleeveless with a wide deep V that shows off the inside curve of my breasts and only reaches mid-thigh on me. I can’t wear a bra with it, so I’ve fiddled with those stick-on bra cups, and they seem to be holding my DD’s in place. At least, they look perky from the side when I look at myself in the mirror. Declan’s words come back to me as I study my reflection… ’ _You’re gorgeous’_...and for once I actually feel it.

I manage to tame my hair into loose waves and put on black mascara and eyeliner, then a shimmery lip gloss. Makeup isn’t really my thing because of what I do all day, and something tells me Declan wouldn’t appreciate a heavy hand with it anyway. I have a black shawl to wrap around my shoulders and a pair of black strappy heels that show off my glittering burgundy toes. My one vanity, I suppose. I can’t really wear makeup or paint my fingernails because of my job; not that I necessarily would. Underneath it all, though, my toes and my underwear make me feel feminine and sexy.

We’re going to take the subway into Manhattan, so he comes to my apartment to get me for the walk to the station. I’m not sure if he’s driving to my apartment or if he’s riding the subway over, but I text him my parking space number along with my apartment number. My phone pings bare seconds later with his response _On my way there now_. I start pacing the apartment because I’m nervous as hell, stopping to look in the mirror enough times that I’m starting to think I’m a little vain. If I’m completely honest with myself, I don’t remember _ever_ being this nervous for a date in my entire life.

There’s a knock at my door and, suddenly, my stomach does a somersault. I hesitate long enough that my phone pings. _You could be wearing a potato sack and I’ll still think you’re gorgeous, stop worrying._ That makes me smile and I go to my front door. When I open it, Declan is standing there looking absolutely delicious. He’s wearing the charcoal pinstripe jacket and the pants that go with it with a black dress shirt open at the neck.

Declan silently says, ‘ _Wow’_ and his blue eyes blink a few times. “That’s not a potato sack.”

His reaction makes me feel really good, and I’m suddenly really happy I had a moment of bravery and bought this dress. I take his hand when he holds it out, and he twirls me slowly around so he can see the entire dress.

When I’m facing him again, I smile. “You like?”

“Darlin’, I’d be a mad man not to. You’re beyond gorgeous and just let me add sexy as hell.”

“Thank you. Much better than blue scrubs.”

He laughs, which makes his eyes brighten, and I’m struck by how handsome, charming, and warm he is. Declan is also, as he put it, sexy as hell, and I can feel my body responding to him. Apparently, my evening with BOB was too long ago and not serious enough to get me through this date. I fear my libido might jump out of my dress and say hello, and I have to think back on neuters in order to bring myself under control.

I lock up, we walk to the subway hand in hand, and make our way into Manhattan. The restaurant is really nice, the food is amazing, and Declan is just so charming and sexy I can’t get over how lucky I am. We talk about his daughter, and I find out Declan and her mother, Amanda, never actually had a relationship, just a weekend fling between his undercover assignments. They were friends before that and have a good co-parenting relationship. Apparently, he’s worried I might think he harbors some feelings for Amanda, and I assure him that I trust him, because I do.

After dinner, we make our way over to Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. For as long as I’ve worked in Manhattan, I’ve honestly never been to it, and Declan is quick to suggest a walk over there. It’s beautiful and I sit down on a bench and unbuckle my sandals. When I stand up I hold my sandals in one hand with my shawl over that forearm and step up onto the fountain rim. Even doing so, I’m barely taller than Declan, and he holds my hand as I walk around the fountain and occasionally stick my toes into the water.

“You’re going to fall in,” he teases as I bend my knee and dip my toes for the tenth time.

Turning my head to face him, I smile and squeeze his hand. “No, I won’t. You’ve got me.”

“Alright…” The warning in his tone goes completely over my head until, suddenly, I’m swept up in his arms and he’s sitting on the fountain rim leaning over the water like he’s going to dunk me.

I squeal and my arms go around his neck as we both laugh and I hold onto him. Now that I’m essentially in his lap pressed against him, I can feel his brawny build. He’s not completely hard muscle but he’s not completely soft, either. He’s the perfect mix, and as I look up into his blue eyes, all I want him to do is kiss me all over. His eyes are on my lips and I slowly lick them, hoping that will be the invitation he’s looking for. And it is.

When his lips touch mine, his tongue teases the seam of my mouth and I open to him. This time his tongue explores my mouth, curls with my own, and leaves me breathless. I hum in contentment as he lifts his head from my mouth and his eyes flick behind me. “Oops, looks like some of your hair got wet.” He sits up, pulling me upright into his lap and my toes curl behind his calf.

“It’s just hair, it’ll dry.”

His eyebrows arch and he chuckles. “You are a conundrum, darlin’.”

Declan looks at his watch and we realize it’s just after 10:30 p.m. As much as neither of us wants to leave, we need to get back to the subway to head back to Brooklyn. I move to sit next to him and put my heels back on, but he stops me and bends down on one knee in front of me. Lifting my right foot, he rests it on his lowered knee and takes the right sandal from me. His hand smooths over the top of my foot, then over my arch before he puts the sandal in place and buckles it. Then, he does the same thing with the other one.

I’m left open-mouthed and my eyes follow him as he stands. He holds a hand out to me and pulls me to my feet, and we start walking to the subway to return home. “Where exactly did you come from Declan Murphy?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” he teases and laces our fingers together, then pulls our hands up into his chest.

“No. Seriously, I feel like I’m in a dream and I’m a little worried I’m about to wake up.”

Trading hands, he reaches behind my back, and when I look over my shoulder he’s making a pinching motion at my ass. “I can pinch you if you’d like. Prove you aren’t dreaming.”

“I dare you.” I smile coyly.

With a shrug, he gives my ass a pinch, which makes me squeak and gets me wet at the same time. Then he trades hands again and smiles down at me. “See? Not dreaming.”

“You’re just...sweet, charming, not overbearing or domineering, and you don’t assume things are okay where so many men do.”

He chuckles and pats my forearm with his other hand while he scans the street and the people around us. “Darlin’, let me clue you into Declan Murphy 101. My mama raised me with morals and a healthy respect for women. My job has exposed me to some of the worst things people can do to each other, which has made me conscious of how things can be perceived when they’re not invited. I’m not innocent, far from it, but I’ll never do anything to hurt you, and I won’t do anything without some kind of signal from you that you want me to.” Declan gives me a serious look. “If I ever read something wrong you tell me and I’ll back off. No questions asked.”

We’ve made it to the subway entrance, and I press myself into his side and smile. “You read me like a book, Declan.”

When we board the car and move to the back where we normally sit, I realize Twitchy is standing in his usual spot, and he’s staring right at the front of my dress. I pull the shawl further around my shoulders, but I can’t seem to cover myself enough to feel comfortable. Declan shifts next to me and suddenly his jacket is around my shoulders.

“Here, it’s cold. Put your arms through the sleeves.”

I don’t know if he actually thinks I’m cold or he felt my discomfort, but I don’t feel exposed any longer. Giving him a warm smile, I lean into his side and his arm lifts to drape around my shoulders while we ride to Utica. When the car stops, Declan and I stand to get off the car, and he smoothly puts himself between me and Twitchy without me being the wiser as to what he’s doing. We walk hand in hand, and when we reach the street, he switches me to the inside of the sidewalk. As we’re walking, Declan looks around at the dark entryways, alleys, and people milling around.

“You walk home alone from the subway at night here?”

My eyes dart around, wondering what his cop’s eyes see that mine don’t. “I do, but I’ve never had an issue.”

His hand squeezes mine and I look up at him. “Then why did you buy the pepper spray?”

I’m momentarily at a loss for words. Declan is a cop. I’m sure he sees a lot more than I realize he does, but I don’t want him thinking I’m helpless or dating him because I need protection. So rather than admit the truth, I bounce my shoulders and smile at him. “Like I said, I just thought it was a good idea.”

Declan’s eyes move back and forth over my face for a few seconds before he hums. I can tell by the tone of his hum that he doesn’t entirely believe me. His free hand lifts to caress my cheek before he leans down to kiss my temple. He straightens before speaking. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Carry the pepper spray in your hand when I’m not with you. It doesn’t do you any good in your purse.”

That worries me a little bit, and I wonder what he’s seen to make him say that. “Something I should know about?”

He shakes his head. “No. Crown Heights is better than it used to be, but you _are_ walking alone at night with a lot of dark alleys and entryways.” Declan leans down again. “I just think it’s a good idea.”

I huff a laugh. He’s returning my words to me.

“Listen, next Friday night...there’s a Police Banquet; one of those Captain things I have to do. It’s at seven. I’d like you to come if you can make it?”

I’m stunned he’s asking me to something like a Police Banquet; those things are a big deal. “I’ll work it out with my partner.”

“Great. It’s black-tie so you’ll need whatever the equivalent is.”

“That would be a cocktail dress.” My eyes roll. “Wonderful. I hate shopping.”

He gives me a suspicious look. “You really are a conundrum. I don’t think I’ve heard any woman say those three words, ever.”

“Now you have.” I laugh as we make our way up the stairs of my apartment building to my floor. “Is this something I should meet you at your precinct for?”

When I get my keys out of my purse, Declan takes them and unlocks my door for me. He opens and pushes the door inward, looking around as he does so. “Probably the best idea. Do you think you could meet me there at six?”

“I can. We have a shower at the clinic so I can get ready there and come over. Just text me where your precinct is.”

Nodding he pulls his phone from his pocket and types something on it. Mine beeps in my purse. “There.”

I hover in the doorway, torn between asking him in and saying goodnight. “I think I need to say goodnight, Declan. If I ask you in you might not respect me in the morning.”

“Darlin’, you’ll figure out eventually that I’m a pretty easy going guy. If you want to ask me in I’m certainly not gonna say no, but you’re not gonna lose any respect for it, either. And if you don’t wanna ask me in, that’s fine too; I don’t have any expectations. I respect your choice, whatever that may be.”

His words make me melt, and I wonder if I’m a puddle of goo at his feet with just a set of eyeballs staring at him. Pushing up on my toes, I lean into him and wrap my arms around his neck. “You have no idea what hearing that does to me, Declan.”

Declan’s hands rest over the curve of my hips and he chuckles. “I have a pretty good idea, but I think I better make the decision for you and say goodnight then.”

Remembering something he said earlier in the week I pout. I think he’s leaning down to kiss me, but his teeth nip my lip instead, and I whimper when he soothes it with his tongue. My breath catches as his tongue slips into my mouth, and I press closer to him, wanting to feel him as our tongues slide over each other. Breaking the kiss to take a breath, I smile and open my eyes. His blue orbs are dark and focused on mine. He wants me but he won’t push. I knew it before, but his words have confirmed the man I believe him to be. Dropping back to my feet, I run my hand down his chest and slip his jacket off my shoulders to hand back to him.

He puts it over his forearm and his thumb runs over my bottom lip. “Goodnight Briar.”

“Goodnight Declan.” My lip is between my teeth as I watch him walk away and realize he’s got a _really_ nice ass.

When I close my door, I lean back against it and groan as I realize I’m wet and aching and all I want is the man who just left. Sighing, I head to my bathroom to take a hot bath and have a date with BOB.


	4. Chapter 4

The next week passes by quickly and I barely notice Twitchy on the subway. I know he’s there; he still stares and creeps me out, but Declan has become a buffer of sorts. 

Friday comes, and I’m able to end my day at 4 p.m., leaving me plenty of time to get ready for the banquet. My partner has time between appointments to do my hair for me, and she puts it into a french twist with a few fleur de lis crystal bobby pins to hold it in place and make it sparkle. She even does winged eyeliner for me, and I put on my black mascara and shimmery lip gloss again. My cocktail dress is a burgundy satin fit and flare ending a few inches above my knees with a slash neck that’s off the shoulders, and I have a pair of black silk platform peep-toes. I add small silver hoop earrings and a silver filigree beaded chain around my neck. This time, I wear a black pea coat over my dress.

I’m even more nervous for tonight than I was for my second date with Declan, and at 5:30 p.m. I make my way over to his precinct. He’s surprisingly closer than I thought; we’re only a subway stop apart, but I decide to take a cab rather than walk or fool with the subway. 

When I get there, I swallow hard as I step out of the cab after paying the driver. The building is overwhelming, even though it really isn’t, and I think it’s just because this is his squad. These are people who know a different side of Declan. At least, I think cop Declan must be somewhat different than the Declan I know. I just still can’t picture him as a vice cop, and I’ve never even seen his badge.

I tell the desk Sergeant who I am and he smiles while pointing back to what he calls a pit. I take a few steps then stop, stunned speechless when my eyes find Declan who is in the middle of the busy room talking to several other officers. 

He’s in full dress uniform, white gloves and all, and his badge and breast bars from various medals are on full display. His hair and beard have been trimmed since I last saw him, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look as strikingly handsome as he does right then. 

One of the men he’s talking to gestures toward me and Declan’s eyes lift. His smile is genuine, lighting up those blue eyes of his, and he excuses himself to walk toward me. 

“Hello, darlin’.” He reaches out and takes my hand then presses a kiss to my lips. I have to reach up to swipe the shimmery gloss from his which makes him smile and kiss my fingertips. “We’ll be ready to go in about ten minutes. We’re just waiting for Jackson to get back with the department SUV.”

I lean close to him, my eyes roaming around at the officers smiling and glancing our way. Speaking out of the side of my mouth, I whisper, “I didn’t know you’d be in dress uniform.”

Declan chuckles. “Well, I kind of figured that police Captain and police banquet might have been a hint, but I’ll forewarn you next time.”

“You look delic...handsome by the way.”

“What was that first word, darlin’?”

Pursing my lips, I playfully glare at him, but his smile melts me. “Delicious. You look delicious, Declan.”

The smile on his face is mischievous and his eyes dance. “Come on. Let me introduce you to some of my squad.” He pauses for a second. “Do you want to be introduced as my girlfriend or my date?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Eventually, you’ll get the idea that you  _ can _ tell me how you really feel.” 

He puts my hand around his forearm as he walks me around the squad and introduces me as his girlfriend. I think he really does read me like a book. 

When the officer Declan said we were waiting for gets back, I realize it’s essentially for him to chauffeur us to the banquet, and I can’t help but wonder what it’s for. I ask Declan, but all he says is it’s a routine awards banquet and leaves it at that. 

We arrive at a really extravagant hall, and Declan puts his cap on before getting out of the SUV. He turns and holds a hand out for me. Photographers are there snapping pictures, and I’m even more suspicious this is more than just routine. Declan keeps ahold of my hand as we’re shuffled inside and find our table. 

I take my coat off just before Declan pulls my chair out, and his eyes slowly take me in. 

He mouths, ‘ _ wow’ _ and whistles lightly. “Have I told you lately how gorgeous you are?” 

“If you keep saying that you’re going to give me a big ego, Captain.” I flutter my eyelashes at him and sit down as he pushes my chair in.

“Oh?” He laughs and nods while he sits and pulls a glove off to caress my bare shoulder. “It’s Captain now, is it?”

“Well, you are in uniform.”

Someone moves to the podium in the front and introduces the Police Commissioner, and all eyes move that way. Declan’s hand stays on my shoulder as his thumb traces the upper part of my collarbone, and in his profile I start to see the cop behind the man I know; serious and dedicated to protecting people who are so savagely taken advantage of. I still wonder how different he is when he’s on the job, especially considering all the years he’s done undercover work.

My attention is drawn to the Police Commissioner talking about the bravery of the NYPD and how every day officers risk their lives for the citizens of New York. He talks about murder rates, domestic violence, special victims, missing persons, sex trafficking rings, and child pornography. As he continues, my eyes drift back to Declan as it begins to hit me that any moment could be our last. His job is not easy, nor is it safe, and it makes me appreciate the time I have with him even more.  

When I look around the room, I notice there are only about a dozen or so men and women in dress uniform like Declan is. My suspicion grows when one of those officers is called to the podium and awarded a medal. More names are called and more medals awarded until I hear Declan’s. My eyes are wide on Declan as he smiles over at me then stands to walk to the podium. 

“Captain Murphy is awarded the Combat Cross for his actions, despite the threat to his own life, which saved the lives of a group of young girls held as part of a sex trafficking ring.” 

I remember to get my phone out and snap a picture as he accepts his medal with a salute to the Commissioner. I’ve never been prouder or more baffled in my life. He never said a word. The man knew this was why we were here and didn’t draw any attention to himself. I’d be suspicious that he brought me to show this off, but that’s just not my impression of him. After two more medal recipients are called to the front the Commissioner congratulates them all and thanks them for their service before dismissing them and continuing his speech. 

Everyone claps, cameras flash, and I watch Declan as he returns to his seat next to me. He doesn’t seem to be affected by any of it. In fact, he’s just as calm and laid back as he always is. The plaque with the ribbon is set on the table in front of him, and he lays his gloves over top of it while he holds out a small breast bar to me. 

“Would you put that on the top bar, please?” He points to where it goes and leans forward to me.

My hands are shaking as I look between his calm expression and the medals on his chest. I manage to slide it in place and place my hand over the evidence that Declan is, in fact, a highly decorated NYPD police officer. 

He finally takes my hand in his and rubs his thumb over my knuckles in that affectionate way of his. “Don’t make a bigger deal out of this than it is, darlin’.”

I’m rendered speechless, and when I can finally speak, I think I sound ridiculous. “But it is a big deal.”

“No, it’s really not. I’m just a good guy that’s good at taking down the bad ones; nothing more.”

There are so many things I want to say, but I suspect he’ll just deflect, so I go back to listening to the speeches. 

After that, dinner is served, and then we get up to ‘rub elbows with the brass’ as Declan puts it. He introduces me as his girlfriend, which makes me giddy every time I hear it, to more people that I think I’ll be able to remember. 

A blonde woman carrying a little blonde girl walks up to us when we’re finally not overwhelmed with people congratulating Declan. 

“Congratulations, Declan.” The woman smiles and the little girl grins ear to ear and squeals when she sees him.

“Hey there, baby girl!” He takes the girl into his arms, blows a raspberry into her cheek, and kisses the top of her head. “Hi, Amanda, and thanks.” Declan uses his free hand to bring me forward so he can make introductions. “This is my girlfriend, Briar. Briar, this is Amanda, and this little princess is my daughter, Jesse.”

I smile and shake Amanda’s hand and wave to Jesse who is wholly focused on her father. 

When his name is called, he turns to find the Commissioner and the Mayor want him to join them for a photo opportunity. He hands Jesse back to Amanda and asks me to wait with them. 

“We just came so Jesse could see her dad get his medal. I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening.” Amanda’s face pinches like she’s afraid she’s intruded somehow, and I smile to reassure her.

“You’re not interrupting anything. I didn’t even have any idea this was happening. Declan just said police banquet.”

“That sounds like him. He’s a hardass when it comes to getting things done for other people, working cases, but when it’s him? Like it’s no big deal.”

“I got that impression.”

Amanda puts a hand on my forearm. “Listen, I know Declan really likes you. He’s mentioned you a few times, and I just want you to know this…” She motions at Jesse. “...was a one-time thing.”

“He’s told me, and you don’t need to explain. You have a daughter together. I’d never do anything to hurt your co-parenting relationship. And, I trust Declan.”

“Declan’s a good guy.”

“Uh oh, what’d I miss?” Declan asks when he rejoins us. 

Amanda smirks. “I was just getting ready to tell Briar how we met…”

“Oh, no you weren’t.” He shuffles Amanda, who is grinning like a Cheshire cat, away from me. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Of course.”

“Give me a minute, Briar? I need to ask her about a case.”

“Take your time, Declan. I can go back to our table.”

He puts a hand to the small of my back and leans down to kiss me lightly, leaving my lips feeling tingly again. 

As I return to our table and sit down, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll always have this feeling every time he kisses me. Not wanting to be rude, I try not to stare at Amanda and Declan, but I can see him gesturing like he’s describing someone. Amanda is talking and nodding, then gestures to his phone when he pulls it from his pocket. He runs his finger over the screen and turns it to show something to her. She nods and I’m curious when her eyes flick my way. Declan’s hand sweeps Jesse’s hair behind her ear, and he kisses her forehead. I wave back when I see Amanda wave to me and they leave.

Declan returns to our table and puts his hands on the back of his chair. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’ve had enough of the brass for one night. Are you ready to go home?”

“Go, yes. Home, no.”

His head tilts and he rubs at his scruff while he considers my words. “You could come home with me tonight?”

“I’d  _ really _ like that, Declan.”   

He lifts my coat from the back of my chair and holds it up for me to slide my arms through. Once I have it on, he reaches out to button one of the buttons in the middle of my chest. Then, he picks up his plaque and medal, offers me his hand, which I take, and we walk to the subway.

Even though it’s after 9 p.m., Twitchy is here when we get on the car, and I’m immensely thankful for the button Declan fastened on my coat. 

That hoodie is back and he’s staring at me. The look in his eyes makes me feel exposed in a way I can’t even begin to describe. I’m surprised by the fact that Declan in full dress uniform doesn’t seem to deter him. Rather, it seems to piss him off somehow. 

His hands are moving in his front pocket like he’s pulling on something, and he’s talking to himself again. When the doors open at Utica, his eyes move between me and the doors, and he stays where he is when I don’t move to get off the car. Two stops later, Declan and I get off, and I don’t even think anything of it when, once again, Declan puts himself between me and Twitchy, who doesn’t move.

We walk to his house hand in hand, and my discomfort over Twitchy fades while my nerves over Declan grow. It’s been a year and the sex with my last boyfriend was mediocre at best. He really wasn’t very attentive, foreplay was non-existent, and I’m pretty sure every orgasm I had while we were together was by my own hand or BOB. I’m highly aroused but nervous as hell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: all smut

My nerves are starting to run away with me. 

Do I remember how to do this? Geez, what if I cum as soon as he touches me? Where do I put my hands? How do I tell him what I like if he’s not doing it right? What if the stretch marks from when I lost weight turn him off? Did I remember to shave? 

It takes Declan snapping his fingers in front of my face to bring me out of my panicked thoughts. We’re standing on his porch and he’s smiling at me. “Darln’, whatever you’re thinking stop worrying about it. I’m 53 years old and far from perfect.”

Those simple words do more to put me at ease than anything else he could have said and I laugh softly. “Sorry Declan, you just do things to me that I didn’t think were possible except in romance novels.”

He looks over at me with an arched brow as we walk in his front door and he moves to close and lock it. The inside of his house is warm and simple, the front door opens into an alcove then the living room. I see a kitchen with an island and bar stools in front of it through the archway in front of me and a hallway to my left. Obviously leading to his bedroom. My bottom lip is between my teeth again when I look up to find Declan watching me from the hallway arch with amusement in his blue eyes.

“What?”

“Romance novels?”

I can feel myself flush at the look on his face and the words  _ panty shredder  _ come to mind. All I can do is tilt my head and eyes in response.

“Come here.” He crooks his finger in front of his face and I feel my panties getting wetter. 

By the time I’m standing in front of him I’m not even sure he’ll need to get me naked or touch me in order for me to cum.

“Time for the awkward conversation where I tell you that I was clean when I was last tested a few months ago and haven’t had unprotected sex since.” He is unbuttoning his jacket as he speaks, matter-of-factly, and as genuinely awkward as it is I appreciate that he’s doing it. “I have condoms in the bedroom, but…” His hand reaches out and he touches three fingers under my chin. “...I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to do. None of this deferring to me or keeping quiet about your feelings that you’ve been doing since we met. You tell me what you want. Okay?”

I’m nodding as I speak. “It’s been about ten months since my last tests which were clean and I haven’t been with anyone for two months before that. I’m on the pill, which I take like clockwork, so we’re covered if we forget the condoms.” I take a deep breath because I’ll need it for the flood of words I need to get out. If I don’t say it in one breath I won’t say it at all, especially when he sets his jacket aside and starts to work on undoing his tie. “And I swear to god Declan Murphy you have had me wet and aching since the first night you really talked to me and if you don’t...well...give me a good pounding I swear I think I might cry.”

His hands have paused in the process of pulling his tie from around his neck and suddenly his arms are around me, lifting me off my feet, and his lips are on mine. He walks us down the hallway as our tongues twirl around each other, fighting for dominance, and my arms come up around his neck. This time I feel his hard length pressing into me as he holds me to him and my panties are already so wet that I feel the insides of my thighs getting soaked. When he sets me back on my feet in the dimly lit bedroom his lips move from my mouth over my jaw and up my ear. The hair of his beard roughens my skin and makes my face tingle and I start to wonder what his beard would feel like between my legs. I can’t help the gasps that escape as his lips move to my neck and my fingers thread through his hair to bring his lips to mine.

Declan pulls his tie off as my nimble fingers flick through the buttons of his shirt and pull it up out of his pants. I try to pull it off of him and we both laugh as I realize I forgot the cuffs. He toes off his polished dress shoes and lifts his feet to pull his socks off while I unbuckle his belt and get his pants open. My hand reaches inside over his boxers to run my palm over his hard length until I can cup his balls and he sucks in a breath then stills while I feel him. He’s well endowed, and I know he’s going to feel good inside of me. 

He pushes his pants down his hips and lets them drop to the floor then kicks them back behind us. All he has on now are his white v neck undershirt and dark boxers. I kick off my heels and lean into him pressing up on my toes as I do so I can meet his lips for another open-mouthed kiss. His hands are pulling the pins out of my hair and dropping them on the nightstand next to him. When my hair is loose he runs his fingers under the twist to free it and let it cascade around my shoulders. I don’t notice when his hands drop until I feel one laying flat over one side of my dress on my back and the other pulling the zipper down. As it falls he catches the strap and holds my hand while I step out of it then tosses it back to the chair on the other side of the nightstand. 

I’m left standing in front of him in an unsexy sensible nude strapless bra and very sexy burgundy lace panties. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he looks me over and I move back to climb to the middle of his bed and lie down on my back with my knees bent. He scrubs a hand over his beard and looks between my face and my panties before climbing on the bed to kneel next to my hips. 

My skin tingles and my pussy aches in need when his fingers hook into the sides of my panties. I lift my hips and he skims them down my legs and off to the floor. His hand rests on the skin of the inside of my thigh and moves up to brush over my pussy. When he realizes how wet I am he smiles and looks at me. 

“This darlin’...this is where you tell me what you want.” His voice is husky and I can see his cock straining inside his boxers, begging for relief of its own.

I can’t help it, I’m feeling selfish even though I know we’re both primed and ready to go but dammit I want his beard roughing my pussy while he eats me. My heart is hammering and feels like it’s up in my throat. Then there’s the way he has his elbow between my knees with his hand laid over the apex of my thighs and I swear I’m wetter than I was just seconds ago. “God Declan, I want your mouth between my legs. I need to know what your beard feels like.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles and lifts the leg closest to him until he can duck under it then his face disappears between my thighs. Declan presses light kisses to my pussy then his tongue is on me, and in me. Sucking, licking, kissing, and fucking my pussy with his mouth and tongue and god does his beard ever feel like heaven. My legs are spread wide and I run my fingers through his hair to hold him to me, not that I need to because he certainly seems to be enjoying what he’s doing. And damn if he isn’t the best at it that I’ve ever experienced.

At some point, he slides a finger inside of me and my back arches off the bed and I moan his name. My hands fist in the sheets and I can feel my thighs starting to shake as he brushes over my g spot and sucks my clit in his mouth. When my orgasm hits my hips buck up into his mouth and his tongue and finger feel like heaven while my body shudders with waves of pleasure.  

Declan moves out from between my legs to lie down on his side next to me and wipes a hand down his beard. He props his head up on his hand while the other runs over my ribcage, beneath my breasts, around to my back and unhooks my bra. For now, he leaves it in place, just lets it lie loose over my chest while one of his hands slides under it to cup my breast and roll my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “How are you feeling about the beard now Darlin’?”          

My legs are still shaking and my pussy tingles from his mouth and beard. “Oh my god, Declan.  _ Never  _ shave.”

That makes him chuckle and when he dips his head to kiss me I taste myself in his mouth. Post cunnilingual kisses have never been my thing because of that, but something about Declan makes it feel sexy and I love it. His hand pulls my bra off leaving me completely bare to him. 

Those blue eyes of his that see everything look me over from head to toe and I feel his cock pressing into my hip. “You are absolutely gorgeous, Briar. And you taste like the sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

His mouth closes over one breast and he sucks and tongues my nipple until I’m shifting and whimpering in need again. Finally, he pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor and I can see his semi-furry chest. He’s a little soft in the middle with still obvious muscle in his chest, abdomen, and arms, and I think he’s perfect. When I verbalize that last thought he laughs around my nipple which just makes it tingle and my pussy ache even more.

My hands explore every inch of him they can reach. Kneading his muscles, running my fingers over his scars, threading my fingers through the hair on his chest and face, and raking my nails over his skin. I love the little hums and grunts I get when I touch him in certain ways and I file those into my memory for the next time. When I try to reach down and push his boxers down his hips, if nothing else but to give him the hint that I want him, he deflects me for the moment. The orgasm on his tongue was amazing but I need him inside of me and I grind against him to emphasize the point.

Finally, he moves to his knees and pushes his boxers down his hips then off. My eyes go immediately to his hard cock and I need to taste him so I do. Shifting around I get on all fours and suck him into my mouth running my tongue over the ridges and veins on his cock. Declan sucks in a breath and his hand tangles in my hair, holding my head but not pushing. He lets me pleasure him until I reach up to cup his balls and his hands move to my shoulders and push me back.

“Okay! That’s enough of that now…” He pulls me up into his chest and kisses me as he eases me back onto the bed so he’s between my legs and my calves are up over his hips.

One hand goes to my hip to hold me in place while he shifts and I feel him running his cock through my soaked folds until he’s at my entrance and slipping easily into me. He’s hard, and thick, and long, and I feel every incredible inch of him. When he’s fully inside of me he groans and drops his forehead to my shoulder. I can feel him fighting for control, trying not to cum yet, and realize he’s just as affected by me as I am by him. 

I start to rock my hips and his head lifts, blue eyes dark with desire that focus on my eyes then mouth and he’s kissing me while he thrusts. He’s  _ good _ , he listens to the sounds I make as he moves, and knows just how to rock his hips to find my sweet spot and put friction on my clit. My legs shake then tighten around his hips too soon and my back is arching up off the bed, pushing my breasts into his chest while I moan his name. 

He says something that sounds like it might be Gaelic and he smooths my hair from my face to kiss me while I shudder beneath him. Declan is still kissing me when I feel his orgasm start and he grunts my name and the word ‘fuck’ once while his cock swells then pulses deep inside of me. We’re both breathless as our bodies come down from their highs and he rolls off me to his back using his arm to tuck me into his side. His hand affectionately strokes down my arm and I rest a hand over his heart which is beating wildly. My lips press kisses to the upper part of his chest, then his neck, and finally I lift to reach his lips. He turns his head to meet mine and his other hand caresses my cheek while he kisses me. 

When he breaks the kiss his eyes hold mine while he smiles. “You’re gorgeous Briar, and I’ve never felt anything better than you.”

I roll partly to my stomach, so I’m leaning against his hip and can rest my arms over his chest to push myself up and look down on him. “I can say the same for you Declan. I’ve never met a better, more charming, and handsome man.”

He uses a finger to sweep an errant curl back out of my eyes. “Shhhh...you’ll give me a big head.”

My eyes travel down his chest and abdomen to his cock which is still semi-hard. “Well…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: nudity, mutual fondling, missing persons

The smell of bacon and coffee hit my nose when I wake several hours later warm but alone in Declan’s bed. I sit up and stretch my arms over my head and smile at the delicious ache between my legs. Declan might be 53 but his age certainly hasn’t affected his ability to perform. We had sex three times the night before and I think I had at least five orgasms. Something I cannot say I’ve had with prior boyfriends. I stand up from the bed and search the floor for my panties and pull them on. Walking around to the other side of the room I find a dark grey t-shirt with a Killarney Celtic soccer logo on it lying over the chair but my dress is missing. Picking up the t-shirt I bring it to my nose and breath in the scent. It smells like Declan and I pull it over my head then follow the smell of the bacon.

I find Declan in the kitchen wearing a green apron that reads  _ Kiss me I’m Irish _ and he is, in fact, frying bacon. His glasses are on top of his head and he’s wearing a black t-shirt and what appear to be blue plaid flannel lounge pants. When he catches sight of me his smile lights up his entire face.

He points to his cheek and speaks in an Irish accent which is incredibly sexy. “Come on lass, ya hafta do what tha apron says. I am Irish after all.”

Pushing up on my toes I kiss his scruffy cheek then use my hand to grip his jaw and turn his face so I can give him a proper kiss. He’s trying to focus on me without burning the bacon when it pops and I squeak then move quickly to the other side of the island to sit on one of the stools.

His eyes are on me, studying how the t-shirt sits over my curves. “You make that t-shirt look better than I ever could, darlin’.”

Rolling my eyes I snicker and rest my chin over my laced fingers. “I couldn’t find my dress.”

“Oh, sorry about that, I hung it up in the closet after you fell asleep the first time. I didn’t want to leave it over the chair all night.” He points out the cabinet where he keeps mugs and glasses, tells me the coffee is fresh as of 15 minutes ago and that there’s orange juice, soda, and water in the fridge.

I move to the fridge and can’t help but notice how his eyes slip to my bare legs as I move around the kitchen.

When I sit back down on the other side of the island he shakes his head. “I had no idea a simple t-shirt could be so damn distracting.”

“It could be worse, if you hadn’t left the t-shirt on the chair I’d be out here in just my panties.”

His head lifts as he considers that and I think he mouths the word  _ damn _ before looking at me. “Is it too late to steal it back?”

We both laugh at that and talk about plans for the weekend as he finishes making breakfast. Tomorrow is his day with Jesse and I have a baby shower for a friend in Manhattan to go to. Since neither of us has plans for the rest of today we decide to head to Canarsie Park for a hike. After breakfast, we shower together, and I’m left wondering where Declan Murphy has been all of my life. He washes my hair and uses his hands as a washcloth to wash every inch of my body after which I return the favor. Shower sex is a consideration but neither of us has any desire to slip and fall or freeze when the hot water runs out so once we’re clean we jump back into his bed one more time. And it’s so good that I can barely think straight when we’re done.

Afterward, I put my dress from the night before back on as he changes into a pair of black and grey running shorts and the Killarney t-shirt I was wearing earlier. He drives us over to my apartment building and we go into my apartment. I change into a pair of navy running shorts and a pink t-shirt with a bunch of different color paw prints on it that reads ‘My patients walk all over me’. Declan gets a laugh out of the shirt and we head back out to the park.

It’s a beautiful day and we walk for an hour before we come across one of the soccer fields and Declan gets involved in a game with some people he knows. I whistle and cheer him on as he plays and I melt even more as I watch him interact with people that know him outside of his job. Amanda is right, he is a good guy, and I’m thankful he bought his house when and where he did so it brought him to my little piece of the subway. By the time he disengages from the game and returns to my side we’re both hungry and decide to grab some hot dogs and sodas from one of the vendors in the park.

We sit under a large tree to eat our lunch and relax, and the conversation turns to how I became a vet and he became a police officer. After we finish eating I lean back against the tree and he lays down with his head in my lap. My fingers comb through his hair as his fingers lace with my other hand over his chest.

I ask what made him decide to go into Vice and do undercover work. He tells me that when the IRA had a presence in New York City his Irish heritage was an asset. It started with that and quickly became apparent that he was able to play a very convincing bad guy and that’s allowed him to take down some even badder bad guys. He won’t tell me anymore and switches the topic of discussion to me. Amanda was so very right about him and how he acts like anything significant he does isn’t any big deal.

He reaches up to twirl a curl of my hair around his finger and speculates how old I am. Apparently, he’s been curious because he convinced himself he was old enough to be my father. When I tell him that I’m forty-one I have to promise to show him my state ID when we get back to the SUV because he’s not convinced. I tell him that I have good genes and have made a point to take care of myself through the years. He tells me again that I’m gorgeous and I swoon a little. It’s been about six weeks since I met Declan and I can definitively say I’m head over heels for this man.

After walking a little more we make our way back to the SUV, we’ve essentially circled the park, and we reluctantly decide to end the day. I have laundry and grocery shopping to do and he has to put a swingset he got for Jesse together. He promises to send me pictures. When he drops me off at home I open my window when I get into my apartment and wave down to him. My chin rests on my hands over the windowsill as I watch him drive off and I know I have a ridiculous smile on my face.

Later that night while I’m putting my laundry away Declan texts me pictures of the swingset after he gets it put together and a selfie of him sitting on one of the swings. The message reads  _ Swingset 0, Dad 1 _ and I wonder, for probably the millionth time, if he’s some really good hallucination. He’s perfect. Not in the sense that he doesn’t have any flaws but rather simply because he’s honest and real. I’m lucky and I know it.

**Tuesday after the police banquet, a few stops past Rockaway…**

_ An older woman walks down the stairs into the subway station and looks around. Her eyes are red and she looks distraught. She tapes a flier to the wall next to the stairwell, places her hand over it briefly, then turns and walks back up the stairs. On it is a picture of a young woman with deep brown hair and green eyes. The caption underneath reads  _ **_HAVE YOU SEEN MY DAUGHTER? MISSING SINCE FRIDAY. PLEASE CALL 512-555-1111._ **


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: kitchen sex

Over the next month, my relationship with Declan continues to grow and we spend more and more time together. He has things in my apartment, I have things in his house. Sometimes we go to Conor’s pub for dinner, other times a favorite pizza place in my neighborhood. Most nights we stay in and make dinner together. I discover he loves horror movies and he learns that he has to let me use him as a shield during the scary parts. I’ll never tell him that I’m not really scared though, I just really like the feel of the protective circle of his arms around me. He finds out about my love affair with comic books and promises to take me to see the next superhero movie coming out in a few weeks.

The next time we see Twitchy is around six weeks after the police banquet. I had almost forgotten about him until he just shows up on the subway car again. That hoodie is back and he stares at me like he always does while his hands move in his pocket. I try not to think about him as I move to the back of the car and sit next to Declan who has a file in his lap that he’s writing in and his glasses are over his eyes. When I snuggle into him he lifts his head to look at me then presses a kiss to my temple. We decide on dinner at his place that night because he has some evaluations he needs to finish writing. I’m a little bit surprised when the car stops at the station between Utica and Rockaway and Twitchy gets off. I’m not sure how I feel about it and I’m even more unsure how I feel about the fact that I’m worried about it.

I make dinner while he sits at the island working on his evaluations. At one point he pulls his glasses off, puts the end of the earpiece in his mouth, and I can’t help but stop and stare. His blue eyes lift to mine like he  _ knows _ , and I smile at him.

“I’ve learned that look, darlin’.”

“What look?”

“The one that says I’ve done something to get you wet and you’re considering doing something about it.” His tone is playful but he might not have any idea just how right he is.

I can feel my face flush and I don’t know how he does it. He just grins and goes back to what he was doing. When I let him know dinner is ready he puts the glasses back on and pushes them to the top of his head then goes to get plates and silverware. We decide to eat outside at the patio furniture I helped him pick out and it’s so domestic I can feel my heart aching for this to be permanent.

“Hmmmm…” After we finish eating I tilt my head back and lift my face to the moonlight while I think about my apartment. My lease is up soon and I need to make a decision as to whether I stay or go. “I should do this.”

“Do what?”

I turn my eyes toward him and find he’s got a little smile on his face as he leans forward over the table toward me. “Find a house. My lease is up soon and it would be nice to have a yard.”

His eyebrows go to his hairline and he scratches his fingers through his beard.

We’re both quiet as he watches me and I look up at the moon and stars.

“You could always live here.”

“What?” I’m stunned by his words and my wide eyes drop to his.

He holds up his hands and sits up. “You could. If you wanted to.”

“Are you...are you asking me to?”

Declan stands up and gathers our dirty dishes then runs a thumb over my cheek before leaning down to kiss me. “I’m  _ telling _ you  _ I’d _ like it if you lived here. I’m  _ asking _ you to decide for yourself if that’s what  _ you _ want.”

I’ve never been a woman who adheres to specific timelines of what has to happen when. If I were I’d have been married long ago and it would probably be to someone who I’m sure I’d have fallen out of love with not long after the marriage. Boyfriends have come and gone but none have felt right. None have felt like the one.

Declan does.

“Okay.”

He turns around, halfway to the patio door, to look at me. “Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

It seems he’s a little torn between carrying the plates back inside or returning to where I sit so I make it easy and go to him. He shuffles the dishes into the cradle of one arm and reaches the other hand around the back of my neck before leaning down to kiss me. As he’s pulling back from my mouth I suck the tip of his tongue and his blue eyes focus sharply on me.

“Do you remember what you said earlier, about getting me wet?” My voice is low and sultry and my chest heaves as my breathing picks up. “Everything you do gets me wet, and right now I’m soaked.”

He just smiles and grabs my hand to pull me back in the house. Once he sets the dishes in the sink his hands grip my hips and lift me up onto the counter while he kisses me. The kiss is urgent and needy like we’ve waited a lifetime for this one moment. I’m almost shaking when I push my shorts and panties down and use my hands to lift my hips off the counter so he can pull them off. When I bring my legs up around his waist I feel his fingertips brushing over my pussy lips and it makes me suck in a breath. I’ve never had a man who genuinely paid attention to how his touch affected me like Declan does. Everything he does always feels amazing and leaves me wanting more.

His voice is husky when he whispers in my mouth. “Geez darlin’, you weren’t kidding.” 

I reach out to help him get his pants open so he can push them down over his hips. And then he’s inside of me and I’m mewling and clawing at his back while he thrusts and I rock my hips. 

Declan watches me, like he always does, paying attention to how I bite my lip, suck in air through my nose, and arch my head or my back. His mouth and tongue take turns between the sensitive spots on my neck and shoulder and my lips, while I do the same to him. One of my favorite things about him is the way he smells, and I’m forever burying my nose in the bend of his neck and shoulder. Especially when we have sex. This time is no different and I’m breathing him in while my teeth nip his skin and my fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders. 

One of his hands is tangled in my hair and the other is at the small of my back, keeping me in place while the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the kitchen. It smells like sex and my skin is tingling all over and I’m overwhelmed and crying out his name while my pussy clenches down hard around his cock. He thrusts into me hard once and stills then groans my name and nothing has ever sounded or felt so good. This man, this amazing man, who is so incredibly brave and humble, strong but sweet, has chosen me and I’m touched in a way I can’t explain. 

My emotions get away from me and my nose is buried in his neck again because for as much as it’s a turn on it’s also grounding for me. I can feel tears slipping down my cheeks. He must feel them too because his hands cup my cheeks and he pulls my head up to look in my eyes. 

“Please tell me those are happy tears?”

I laugh and nod and use the back of my hand to wipe them away. “They are. If I tell you what’s brought them on you’re just going to downplay how amazing you are so let’s just leave it that I feel incredibly lucky to have found you.”

He hums and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I feel the same about you, darlin’.”

We stay there like that, still connected, holding each other, for another few minutes just enjoying the quiet comfort of the intimacy we share. I can honestly say I’ve never trusted another man as unconditionally the way I do Declan. He makes me feel safe, wanted, and loved.

That last thought makes me sit up straight, suddenly enough that I bang the back of my head on the cabinet behind me. Squinting my eyes shut I lift a hand to the spot I hit and lean my forehead into Declan’s shoulder.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

When I look up into his clear blue eyes I see what I’m feeling reflected back at me and I melt. “I’m in love with you, Declan.”

“That’s why you banged your head?” He’s amused, his eyes dancing as he studies my face. “I love you too. I thought you knew that?”

I laugh with him, I suppose I did. Everything about this relationship has been so easy. Felt so right from the start. Sometimes I wonder when the other shoe is going to drop. Then I also recognize there’s no reward without risk and I’d rather love him for a few short months if things don’t work then miss out on this. We kiss again and he picks me up from the counter and carries me back to the bedroom. I can’t wait to be here every night.          

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: flirting and mentions of sex, stalking and drugging

 

I turn my notice into my landlord the next day to let him know I won’t be renewing my lease when it’s up in just over two months. Declan and I discuss how to integrate our things together. Obviously, we have two, or more, sets of everything which we won’t need and won’t reasonably fit into his house. He suggests rather than get rid of anything we get a storage unit and move anything that we won’t be using in there for now. Later, when we’re both sure things are working out the way we want we can start considering what to get rid of. Neither one of us believes things won’t work, but the suggestion is sound and that’s what we decide to do. 

We start in the bedroom and ultimately decide to put both bedroom sets into storage and buy something that is ours. Together. 

It’s during our spontaneous trip to the furniture store less than two weeks after deciding to move in together that I discover just how good of an actor Declan can be. A by-product of his years undercover I decide. I think perhaps if the saleswoman wasn’t thinking about her commission we might be kicked out of the store. She accosts us at the door, giving us her sales pitch and her name, Gail, and follows us around everywhere we go. 

I can see Declan is getting aggravated that we can’t browse in peace. He’s quiet and I can’t see his lips, they’ve disappeared into his beard. We finally find a set we both like and start discussing what kind of mattress we should get when the saleslady appears, yet again. 

Declan sighs and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. Winking at me he lets go of my hand and turns toward her. When he speaks it’s with an Irish accent. “Gail is it now?”

She rushes forward and I can see her swooning at the sound of his voice. I can’t really blame her. I swoon too when he uses that accent on me. “Yes, sir?”

“Can ya tell me, what corner of tha mattress is supposed ta be on tha bottom left?”

My face must register my confusion because I can feel it scrunching up to look at him like he’s lost his mind. 

She looks confused as well. “I...Uhm...well, I’m not sure there’s a specific corner that should be there. Just whichever you want to put there.”

He nods and folds his arms over his chest. “Do ya know if tha flat or tha fitted sheet goes on first?”

“I...the fitted sheet, sir.”

I’m standing there, wide-eyed with my hand over my mouth as I watch him. 

Declan walks around to the other side of the bed and leans over to push on it a few times. “Do ya know how much bouncin’ tha springs can take?”

“I’m really not sure.”

“Can we try tha springs out b’fore we buy it?” He looks right at me and I shake my head. 

“You mean here, sir?”

“Is it fer safe sex or fun sex?”

My mouth drops open as I stare at him but he looks completely serious and I begin to see a small snippet of why he was so good undercover.

“Uhm...I don’t think it matters?”

“Sure it does, lass. If it’s fer safe sex I hafta wear a johnny.” He sits down on the side of the bed and bounces on it a few times then looks up at me. “We really need ta test tha sturdiness of these springs. Do ya think it’s sturdy enough fer tha rest of tha wives?”

At that point, the saleslady has no idea what to say so she just backs away and tells us to come to find her when we’ve decided.

When she does Declan’s chin drops to his chest and he shakes his head. He drops the accent when he speaks. “I just wish they wouldn’t follow you around like vultures waiting to feast on your carcass.”

“Oh my god, Declan Murphy!” I hiss at him.

He chuckles and stands up, his blue eyes full of mischief. “Do you want to test out the springs, darlin’?”

“Not here!!” I stamp my foot for emphasis which just makes him laugh even more. I’m not really irritated at him and I think he realizes this or he wouldn’t be laughing

“I’m actually serious.” 

I glare at him.

“I don’t mean that. Just lay on the mattress to see if it’s what you want? If it’s too firm we can get one of those foam things to put on it, but if it’s too soft we can’t exactly…” He stops and scratches his beard and shrugs. “...make it hard?”

“Oh my god.” I stomp over to the bed and lay on the mattress.

“Do ya like it now, lass?” The Irish accent is back and I jump up.

“It’s fine! Let’s get this one before you cause any more problems.”

“What problems are those now?”

“The ones where we get arrested for me fucking you silly on a mattress to test the springs in a furniture store.”

Declan gets a wicked look on his face and leans into my ear to whisper in his Irish accent, “Does that mean yer a little wet now?”

Rather than answer him I just brush my hand over the front of his jeans which prompts a startled grunt. The next thing I know he’s got ahold of my hand and we’re in search of Gail to pay for and set up delivery for the set we picked out. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him more determined to get home. 

Twitchy is back on the subway when Declan and I ride home together the Monday after our furniture shopping adventure. He’s got the hoodie on and he’s watching me while his hands shift around in his pocket. It makes me feel exposed and sick to my stomach; I shiver and pull my hoodie on. Declan lifts his head to look at me and his eyes pinch. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just cold.”

He frowns like he was expecting another answer and puts an arm around me. This time rather than go back to the file on his lap he leans into my hair and kisses the side of my head. My anxiety over Twitchy fades. When we get off the car at Rockaway Declan holds my hand and his body blocks my view of Twitchy who remains where he is.

I’m happy but worried when Twitchy isn’t on the subway for the rest of the week. It’s odd. When he first showed up he was there every night until that night he got off at Utica with me and I jumped back on the train. Then he wasn’t there for a while and he’s been back and forth since. He was wearing that hoodie the night he got off with me too and I realize I’ve only seen it right before he disappears for a while. I shudder while I think about it and decide I need to put it out of my mind. Who am I to judge him? For all I know he might not even be looking at me. He could have a lazy eye. I might remind him of an old girlfriend. Maybe there’s a cognitive dissociation that I would have no way to know about. 

These are the things I tell myself to justify not telling Declan how I feel because I suspect he’s noticed my discomfort. I don’t want him thinking I’m paranoid and scared. I’ve got my pepper spray and I know self-defense. I can take care of myself.

Our bedroom furniture is delivered Saturday and Declan has a few of his friends come over to move his old set out of the house and take it to storage. One of them has a truck so we don’t need to rent a moving truck yet. We’ll do that once we’re ready to empty my apartment and pull out any of Declan’s furniture we plan to store. They head off to the storage unit while I pull the plastic off the new set, make the bed, and start working on putting things away. Declan and I have already talked about what’s going where and I’m done before the guys get back. 

I’ve already pulled burgers out of the fridge, made potato salad, and macaroni and cheese and have an orange creamsicle cake ready that I made the evening before. Declan takes the burgers from me, at my protest, and takes them outside to put them on the grill. I sit outside and watch Declan interacting with friends that have known him for years and it reinforces that the man I know is exactly who I think he is. It makes me love him even more. 

When I bring the cake out they all gush over it and his friends start flirting with me in a light-hearted attempt to snag me away from Declan. I smile but it doesn’t work. Declan endures the teasing his friends give him about his newfound domesticity and they tell me they’ve never seen him happier. 

After they leave we test the springs on that new bed of ours.

Over the course of the next month, we move small things I’m keeping from my apartment to Declan’s house until all that’s left is for storage and the furniture being moved to the house. We move all of that one Sunday when we rent a moving truck and Declan’s friends help us again. Amanda is there to help too. She and I have become friends despite each of our fears that the other would feel like we were intruding somehow. Her on my relationship with Declan, and me on their co-parenting relationship. When it all comes right down to it though neither of us has anything to worry about. Declan will always have her back as the mother of his child but I’m the woman he loves and we both respect those things.

My lease has two more weeks left on it when we get everything out of the apartment. All I have left to do is clean it which I plan to do during the first week so I’ll have the last in case I have any issues. Twitchy has been noticeably absent from the subway train on my ride home with Declan during that week of cleaning. We’ve been driving over to the apartment every night for about an hour and by the time Friday comes around, there’s very little left.

I’m in an exam room Friday afternoon updating a 16-week-old beagle puppy’s shots when my cell phone rings and I have to let it go to voicemail. When I get the chance to check my phone I have a missed call from Declan and a text message that says simply  _ Call me when you can _ . While we’ll trade silly text messages we typically don’t call each other during the day while we’re at work unless something happens to change our plans. I have a break between appointments and call him but it goes to voicemail so I text him  _ Called you back, tag you’re it _ . It goes on like this for a few hours. The last text I get, after another round of missed calls, right before I’m ready to leave the clinic is  _ Haven’t made it to the subway yet, I’ll call you shortly.  _

When I get on the car Twitchy is there in his hoodie but Declan is not and I move to the back of the car to sit in our usual spot. My phone rings as I’m pulling my hoodie over my head and Declan’s picture is on the screen. 

“Declan?”

“Hey darlin’, I’m sorry for all the back and forth today.”

“It’s okay, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. We had a search warrant to execute and it’s taking a lot longer than expected.”

“Okay, I can just drive over to the apartment and finish up there. Call me when you get on the train and I can let you know where I am.”

“I’ll do that. Text me when you get there though?”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

I hang up the phone and when I look up, Twitchy is gone. I’m not ashamed to say I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s an uneventful walk to the house when I get off at Rockaway and I change into jeans and a t-shirt before heading to the apartment. The parking spaces are in the back of the building and it’s dark by the time I get there. 

Something feels off when I reach my hand out to open the back entrance to the building. My hair stands up and my skin crawls like someone is watching me. A hand clamps over my mouth and I feel a pinch in my neck as I see Twitchy’s face next to mine. He smells like an operating room. I try to scream but no sound escapes my mouth.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” 

That’s the last thing I hear before I slip into oblivion.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of rape and murder, non-con touching, non-con drug use, self-injury

**Meanwhile at SVU…**

Amanda is standing in front of a board in the middle of the squad that’s labeled Subway Stalker. Underneath are his four known victims. The first three were found dead several weeks to mere days after they went missing. Fortunately for SVU, the fourth survived by playing dead before she was dumped like the others in an alley in the meatpacking district. They have her working with a police sketch artist right at that moment. All of them were drugged with ketamine then brutally raped, sodomized, and beaten. They all have dark brown hair and green eyes and rode the same subway line. Something is bothering her and she can’t put her finger on it.

Her eyes lift when Fin walks over holding a stack of paper. 

“Renee is done with the sketch artist. Says this is him.” 

When Amanda takes the copy from Fin her eyes widen and she starts to panic. “Shit!!! Fin, I think I’ve seen a picture of this guy. I’ve got to get over to Declan’s squad, he has it.”

She rushes out before he can say a word. All the way over to Declan’s precinct she’s praying she’s wrong but fearing she’s right. It feels like it takes forever and when she runs into the Vice squad room and looks around she doesn’t see him. 

“Where’s Captain Murphy?!”

“I’m right here, Amanda. What’s wrong? Is Jesse okay?” He’s still in his bulletproof vest and NYPD department jacket from the search warrant she knows they served earlier.

Amanda nods and rushes over to him. “She’s fine. This isn’t about Jesse. Where’s that picture you showed me at the banquet? The one of the guy on the subway you said was making Briar uncomfortable?”

Declan drops his glasses to his eyes and runs his hand back through his hair while he pulls his phone from his pocket. He swipes over the screen until he comes to it and Amanda’s stomach drops when she sees it. It’s pretty blurry, he told her that he snapped it one evening before Briar got onto the subway car and the man moved when he did, but she thinks they’re the same man. 

She shoves the sketch copy in his face. “Is this him?”

“Fuck.”

Amanda watches while he checks his phone, figuring he’s probably checking to see when he last heard from Briar.

His face falls and the look he gives Amanda is one of immense guilt. “She never texted me that she made it to her apartment building. She should have been there half an hour ago.”

“Call her. And come on.” 

He puts his phone on speaker to call Briar’s cell as he tells his Lieutenant where he’s going and runs out with Amanda. Briar’s line rings but goes to voicemail and Declan leaves her a message telling her to call him as soon as she gets the message. Then he sends her a text message with the same request. Amanda watches as he gets into the driver’s seat of her department SUV and doesn’t say a word, just gets into the passenger seat. She calls the squad and tells Carisi what’s happening while she watches Declan tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel and driving like a mad man.

“I heard my phone ping and thought it was her. I didn’t even check.” 

“It’s not your fault Declan. And we don’t really know for sure he has her.”

Declan looks over at her and his look says it all. 

They both know. It’s that feeling you get as a police officer when you’ve been doing this for so long that tells you when something bad has happened. You don’t want to believe it. Sometimes you try not to. But when your worst fears are realized time and time again? You learn to listen.

When they get to the SVU precinct Declan parks Amanda’s SUV and they run inside.

Liv is pacing in front of the board and Barba is there. Amanda is grateful he came back after Stone left, she didn’t think they could take  _ another _ new ADA, and at least she knows he’ll get them what they need.

“What is going on Amanda? Fin said you’ve seen the Subway Stalker?” Liv questions as soon as she sees them.

“I have,” Declan says and tells them the story of how he’s noticed since riding the subway that this man was hyper-focused on Briar and making her extremely uncomfortable.

“Creepy still doesn’t equal criminal, Captain.” Barba shakes his head but Amanda knows he just wants them to give him anything that he can work with, anything he can use to get a warrant from a judge to try and find this guy. 

“Maybe it should.” Declan focuses angry blue eyes on the ADA. “Maybe this…” His hand waves at the board in front of them with the four women’s pictures on it. “...wouldn’t happen if it was. Maybe Briar wouldn’t be missing.”

“I don’t disagree. Do you have a picture of her?”

Declan pulls his phone from his pocket again and when he finds what he’s looking for hands it to Barba.

“Dios Mio.” Barba scrubs his hand over his face then looks at Fin. “Give her phone number to TARU, have them get started on a trace. I’ll call Judge Barth.”

“Got it, counselor.” Fin gets the information from Declan and heads off.

Barba gets on the phone and the rest of them are left to wait and try to put things together. Declan tells them everything he can think of about Twitchy, his mannerisms, clothing, build, and it all exactly matches with what Renee, the vic who survived, told them. Declan has never been so scared in his entire life. 

**Meanwhile in the West Village…**

I wake up in a haze, feeling like I’m not connected to my body and I can’t get my thoughts together. I’m lying on my side on a metal framed bed and my hands are cupped together above my head. There’s something around my wrists and when I look up I see silver cuffs on each of my wrists linked together by a foot long chain that’s wrapped around a post of the bed. This isn’t right and I know I need to sit up and get them off somehow.

My hands feel funny, almost like they aren’t part of me, and I try several times to get ahold of one of the cuffs but miss. I feel like my hands are going through each other. Sitting up I look around and wonder where I am and how I got here. I have no idea because I can’t remember anything after the beagle puppy I gave some shots to. Was that today? 

Swallowing hard I close my eyes and try really hard to concentrate. I was supposed to go to my apartment to finish the last of the cleaning. Declan was...somewhere. My eyes open and I try again to get ahold of one of the cuffs. It won’t slide over the base of my hand even if I bring my thumb into my palm. Lifting my eyes I look around and a wave of nausea forces me to stop and I feel like I’m floating again.

Did someone dose me with ketamine?

Something tells me I  _ HAVE _ to get out of these cuffs and get out of here before whoever put me here comes back. I don’t know how long I’ve been out but from the light coming from the little glass block window, I’d guess it’s close to midnight. When the nausea and floating feeling subside I slowly look around again. 

That’s when I see it.

Twitchy’s hoodie. 

And I start to panic. Bile rises to the back of my throat and I look down at myself. I’m wearing some kind of black semi-sheer negligee  _ and nothing else _ . My eyes close and I try, really hard, to see if my body feels normal. Especially...I can’t even think about it...I don’t want to think about it... 

Nothing physically feels off. Except my stomach feels sticky and I put my fingers to that spot. When I lift them to my nose I smell it. Twitchy ejaculated on me. 

I open my eyes and start pulling at the cuffs, trying to break them free, but I know they won’t budge. The bedpost they’re around is solid, I can’t pull it away from the frame. I look at my hands and try each of the cuffs to see if I can get one over my hands, only one needs to be free for me to get the chain from around the post. As I’m trying desperately to pull one or the other over my hands and fighting down the nausea and floating feeling I notice something. 

If my thumb weren’t in the way I could get one of the cuffs off.

**Meanwhile back at SVU...**

Declan is pacing the bunk room while Amanda tries to calm him down. It’s almost 11. Briar has been missing for at least five hours now. He knows the longer she’s gone the less likely they are to find her alive. 

He scrubs his hands over his face and through his hair then turns and punches the lockers next to him. “Goddammit!!”

“Dec, you gotta calm down.”

He turns back to Amanda. Anguish, fear, and anger clear in his eyes as he holds his hands up, palms together, in front of him. “Amanda, some psycho who has been raping and killing women has the woman I love, doing God knows what to her. So please, give me a little latitude with my emotions. I can’t be the calm under fire guy you know right now because  _ I’m not calm _ !”

“We’re going to find her and both of you will be at dinner Sunday.”

That statement makes him reach up and press the heels of his hands into his eyes. “You don’t know that, Amanda.”

“You found me didn’t you?” Liv’s voice sounds from the doorway.

Dropping his hands to his hips he shifts his eyes to Liv.

“Trust us to find Briar.”

Just then Fin walks through the door. “We gotta go, TARU got a hit on her phone. Brownstone out in West Village by the meatpacking district.”

Declan looks at Fin. “She doesn’t have a reason to be out there.”

“I know Captain, c’mon. We gotta go,” the older man encourages and motions him out the door with them.

“You shouldn’t be with us,” Liv says to Declan then grips his shoulder. “But I won’t stand on principle.”

He nods, remembering a time when he said those same words to her. And even though he could pull rank on her if he really wanted to, this is one time where he won’t because he knows it will be simple selfishness driving him. So he’s thankful she’s allowing him this, and thankful they managed to forge a working respect in his time leading the squad.

They hurry out to their department vehicles, Declan rides with Amanda. She’s driving, he doesn’t trust himself behind the wheel this time. His emotions are all over the place and he’s absolutely terrified Briar is lost to him forever. He’s seen what men like the Subway Stalker do and this one reminds him a little too much of William Lewis. Sadistic and cruel for the simple pleasure of it. And maybe that’s why Liv is giving him this leeway. She knows what it’s like to be in the hands of a man like that.

When they get to the brownstone and the cars converge from opposite directions they see a figure stumbling out from a stairwell into the street. It’s a woman and her legs and feet are bare. She appears to be wearing some sort of dark somewhat sheer slip that barely covers her thighs. Her left arm is held in close to her stomach and Declan watches in mute horror as she holds her hands up when two unis approach her with guns drawn. 

“Holy mother…” He jumps out of the SUV, ignoring Amanda’s shout, and waves the officers off. “Stand down! Stand down!” 

Liv is there waving them off as well.

The woman turns towards Declan’s voice and he realizes it’s Briar. As soon as she sees him she starts to fall and he rushes to catch her. Cradling her in his arms he struggles to keep his emotions in check but he can’t help the few tears that escape his eyes. He hasn’t even really looked her over when Fin makes it to them.

“Captain? You want me to take ‘er?”

Declan shakes his head and stands easily with her in his arms. “No. I’ve got her.” He carries her over to the waiting ambulance while the rest of them execute the search warrant on the brownstone. 

Now that he can see her in some light he realizes he’s never seen the slip she’s wearing. He lets out a breath and shakes his head in misery when he realizes, even worse, that she’s not wearing anything underneath it. If it takes until his dying day he will make sure the Subway Stalker pays for what he’s done to Briar and however many other innocent women he hurt before her. 

Amanda climbs into the back of the ambulance and sits next to Declan. “I’m going to ride to the hospital with you in case she wakes up and discloses.”

At that point, Declan isn’t really listening. Just watching everything the paramedic is doing as he examines Briar. Something silver on Briar’s right wrist catches his eye as the medic lifts her arm. When he leans forward to look he realizes she has a handcuff on that wrist attached to a long chain and the other cuff is still closed. “How did she get out of the cuff?”

The medic points to her left hand. “Looks like her thumb is dislocated.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: touches on aspects of a rape kit and Briar and Declan’s emotions during it

I wake up with a headache and cottonmouth and feel like I’ve got a hangover. The last thing I remember is telling Mrs. Sanderson that her pug was grossly overweight and it was threatening his health. When was that? Friday morning, I think. Did Declan and I go out with friends last night? When I sit up I there is a rushing and ringing in my ears and sounds start to filter through my brain. The room spins as I open my eyes and that’s when I realize I’m not at home. 

Declan is standing next to me and I’m wearing some kind of black slip or negligee I’ve never seen before. Amanda is there. So is her Lieutenant, Benson I think her name is. 

“Briar?” Declan’s voice is loud in my ear.

I turn my head and swallow hard. “Was I in an accident?”

His eyes flick to Amanda and Benson before he looks back at me and shakes his head. “No. What’s the last thing you remember?”

They all look at each other when I tell them about the appointment and flinch when I lift my left hand to rub my eyes. That’s when I see my thumb. I can’t focus on it and reach my right hand up to try to touch it. There’s a silver cuff around that wrist attached to a chain. I feel shaky and not fully connected with my body and I wonder if I was accidentally stuck with a ketamine injection at the clinic. It’s happened to my partner. We had a dog come in…My thoughts drift and I realize my stomach feels, crusty is the only word I can think to describe it. “What happened to me? Why do I feel like I have the worst hangover of my life?”

That’s when Declan tells me I was missing for almost six hours and who they believe had me. I can’t remember anything, I close my eyes and try, really try to remember, but Mrs. Sanderson’s pug is the last memory I have. I’m not sure whether to be grateful for that or not until Benson, Liv I find out her name is, tells me if I don’t know for sure that Twitchy didn’t touch me they’d like me to consent to a rape kit.

As soon as I hear that I feel like the floor is falling out from under me and I start trying to scramble up the bed like I’m falling. Declan has his arms around me, telling me he’s here, he’s got me, I’m safe. I listen while Liv gives me a quick and dirty rundown of just exactly what a rape kit involves.

After what she’s told me I’m numb but I can feel my body start to shake like I’m cold. “Do what you need to do.”

Liv leaves the room, I guess to do whatever she needs to in order to get the rape kit started. Amanda moves to the other side of me and looks from Declan to me. “You can have someone with you during the exam if you want.”

I look over at Declan who I can tell is trying so very hard to remain calm but I can see he’s upset. He really is the only person I want with me during this, I need him with me, but I’m afraid to ask for him to stay. What if he doesn’t want this anymore because some sick bastard might have touched me? Should I give him an out?

“Darlin’, if you’re going to defer to me then I’m staying, but I don’t want to step on your toes and make you uncomfortable. This is your choice.” He runs his fingers along each side of my jaw from my ear to my chin as he speaks and I feel guilty for even thinking he’d want an out. That’s not the kind of man he is.

“I need you here, Declan.” 

“I’m not going  _ anywhere _ .” He drops his chin to his chest and his blue eyes are intent on me as emphasis to his words.

I get his message. He’s read me like a book since the very beginning and likely knows where my head was. When I ask how they knew I was missing and what happened, Declan finally admits he knew all along that Twitchy was making me uncomfortable. While he couldn’t do anything as a cop based on what he saw, there was nothing to stop him from putting himself between me and Twitchy or trying to make me feel safe. 

I feel immensely guilty for not confiding in him and I tell him that. He just tells me that he’s always got my back, it doesn’t matter what it is, how silly I think it is, I can always talk to him. There’s never any reason for me to feel like I’m weak or being paranoid. My feelings are valid to him. No matter what they are.

He tells me about the picture he took and how that’s the ‘case’ he was talking to Amanda about at the banquet. Then she tells me she figured out Twitchy was the Subway Stalker when she recognized the sketch that came from the description one of his other victims gave them. I don’t ask how many other victims there are or what happened to them. I’m not sure I can handle it right now. Frankly, I don’t know how I’m going to handle it if I find out Twitchy did, in fact, touch me. 

Then it dawns on me. 

Twitchy had to have touched me because I’ve never seen this slip before and I’m  _ NOT WEARING ANYTHING ELSE _ . I want it off and start pulling at it but forget there’s something wrong with my left hand. It starts to throb and I bring it in close to my chest. Amanda tells me when the sexual assault nurse examiner gets there they’ll collect the slip and give me a hospital gown then some sweats to wear home after it’s done.

I’m trying to be calm, trying not to cry. Amanda is my friend but I don’t want to break down with her in the room. I need to stay strong. Declan is tense next to me, I can tell he wants very much to comfort me, but he has to be careful how he touches me right now to prevent any more evidence transfer. I understand because I don’t want Twitchy to get away with this or anything else he’s done, so I force myself to calm. It’s not easy. Between the stress of the situation and the floaty out-of-body feeling, I’m going through spurts of my heart racing and making me jittery.

It feels like a whirlwind when the nurse and what Declan tells me is a CSU tech gets there. I’m asked a million questions about what happened, my health history, my sexual history, recent consensual sex acts, and on and on and on. Declan tells her that she’ll need to take a swab from him because his DNA will be all over me. I pray Twitchy’s isn’t.

Once the questions are done the humiliation starts. I stand in the middle of a white paper sheet while I remove the slip and put it in a bag. The handcuff is unlocked and put in another bag. Declan stands in my line of sight so I’m not freaking out but the CSU tech is a man and I feel the need to use my arms and hands to cover myself. When they turn the lights off and shine what looks like a black light over my body I have to hold my arms at my sides. My stomach lights up and is swabbed, so does my right breast.

I’m shaking, partly because I’m cold, partly because my emotions are all over the place, and Declan reminds me to look at him. He’s here. I’m safe. 

When the lights go back on my arms and hands go back to covering myself after pictures of my stomach and breast are taken. The tech notices a bruise on the back of my hip and the nurse starts documenting it. Declan moves around to see what he’s talking about and says he did that about a week ago. The tech takes a picture anyway and I can see by the look on his face he’s suspicious.

My eyes narrow viciously and I feel like I momentarily lose my mind. “Don’t look at him like that!! He didn’t do a thing wrong.” I’m ranting and I know it. But I’m naked, upset and emotional, and the tech’s expression has really rubbed me the wrong way. “This is humiliating enough.”

Declan starts to intervene until I glare at him. 

Then I return my attention to the tech who is taking even more pictures. “Who are you to judge what I do, consensually, with the man I love? When this happened?” I point to the bruise. “I was on top.  _ And it was GOOD. _ ” My head shakes bitterly and I look between the nurse and the tech. “I can see now why so many rape victims don’t come forward. Victim blaming starts with evidence collection.”

My eyes find Declan’s who looks anguished and I know he’s being affected by all of this too. All he wants to do is reach out and comfort me and right now he can’t. I’m not sure if he understands how comforting his mere presence is.

Finally, I’m able to put a hospital gown on and Declan helps me get up onto the exam table again. He holds my hand when it’s not being examined and I lie there, shaking, while I’m swabbed and scraped. My feet go into stirrups that are swung up from under the table, and the nurse swabs between my legs then does an internal exam. I choke back a sob when she does a vaginal scraping and Declan sucks in a breath at the sound. He uses the inside of his NYPD jacket to wipe away the tears in his eyes. The vaginal exam is bad enough, I don’t want to believe Twitchy’s touched me anywhere...down there...at all. When she does the rectal exam I hold my breath because I don’t want to react. 

She moves to get what she needs to draw my blood and I can feel my throat constricting. Something about the idea of a needle is bothering me but she’s drawing blood so I tell myself I’m okay. And Declan isn’t going to let anything happen to me. I’ve never been afraid of needles before, I’ve always watched the blood draw or injection, but this time I have to turn my head into Declan’s neck to stay calm. He just threads his fingers through my hair and reminds me he’s there and he’s got me. Then I’m given several pills to take to prevent pregnancy and any sexually transmitted diseases I might have been exposed to.

I’m told the rape kit is done and I can take a shower in the private bathroom attached to the exam room but then the ER nurse comes in to say the ortho just got there to reset my thumb. I want to take a shower, I need to scrub my skin clean. I still can’t remember what happened but the humiliation of the rape kit just made my mind imagine what  _ might  _ have happened. 

Just as I’m about to tell the nurse I’m going to shower first the ortho walks in with an x-ray tech pushing a portable x-ray machine and the decision is made for me. My thumb is dislocated. I still don’t know how it happened. Declan thinks I had to have done it myself to get out of the handcuffs and escape. 

The ortho tells me I’m a very strong and brave woman and leaves it at that. Declan agrees with him. 

Fortunately, my thumb doesn’t need surgery and the ortho says he can just do a closed reduction right there at my bedside.

It’s a simple procedure, just a little push and pull to work the bone back into place and I’ll need to keep my thumb immobilized for at least 3 weeks and then they’ll look at it again. A small price to pay for my life I think. I’m fine until a nurse comes in to start an IV and give me something for pain. 

I know by that point that Twitchy injected me with ketamine. I’ve had enough time to think over how I’ve felt since waking up along with my memory loss and it’s the only thing that makes sense. Something in me snaps. The blood draw I could handle. They were taking something OUT. This though? They want to give me a narcotic painkiller through my IV and the doctor wants to inject lidocaine into my hand and I flat out refuse. 

The nurse tries to explain how the reduction in pain will allow me to relax and it descends into Charlie Brown speak. I’m shaking my head and threatening to walk out of the ER as is if they bring any needles near me. All I know is I  _ can’t _ be injected with anything else. The mere thought terrifies me more than I can ever remember being and I reach up to grip the front of Declan’s shirt and beg him not to let them give me anything.

He’s torn, I can see it in his eyes. His need to protect me from what’s scaring me is warring with the fact that seeing me in pain is hurting his heart. Finally, he gives in and tells them no.

The ortho tells us he can do the procedure without any anesthetic or pain medication but it’s going to be painful and I should be prepared. Declan let’s go of me long enough to take off his NYPD jacket and bulletproof vest that apparently he’s had on since some time the previous day. He knows I need to be able to feel him and not the kevlar he was wearing. 

The ortho has my hand on a stand, examining my thumb, and is feeling the bones and joint. When Declan returns to me I lean into him, my nose in the bend of his neck so I can smell him, and he laces his fingers with my right hand and holds our hands over his heart. His other arm wraps around me so I’m surrounded by him. His cheek is laying on top of my head and his hand is shading my eyes so I can’t really see what the ortho is doing. I tell him I’m ready and I feel a sharp push and pull on my hand and excruciating pain that makes me cry out but only lasts for as long as the pushing and pulling does. Then I’m left with a throb and what I can only describe as a bone-deep ache. I whimper into Declan’s neck and hear him suck in a breath as he tells me in a shaky voice that I’m okay and he’s got me. A brace is put on my hand to support my thumb and I’m given strict instructions to only remove it to shower.

There’s more activity as Liv and Amanda return to tell us they’re taking my rape kit to the lab and Amanda gives me a set of sweats to wear home. Hospital issue drab grey. It doesn’t matter because as soon as Declan and I get home I’m going to shower again and ask him to burn them. Once everyone is finally out of the room he helps me off the exam table. I’m still shaky. From nerves and the ketamine. At least the room isn’t spinning any longer. I feel feeble though like I can’t do anything myself, and I’m doing the best I can to keep it together. The shower doesn’t do anything to help. I don’t feel clean but I just want to wash off what Twitchy did along with the feeling of hands, swabs, and cold metal instruments. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: angst, hurt/comfort, aftermath of sexual assault, smut

At home is where I finally break down. We walk through the front door and Declan turns on a light. I look around and immediately head down the hallway to our bedroom and master bathroom. It’s got a separate shower and tub. Right now, I don’t want to soak. I just want to strip the sweats off and take a shower with Declan’s soap so I have his smell on me.

I kept it together at the hospital but when I get into the shower here at home and look down at myself I can’t any longer. The bits of blue dye running down my legs and the fear of what Twitchy’s done finally get the best of me. My knees buckle and I collapse to the floor of the shower on all fours while I sob pitifully. Seconds later the shower door clicks open and Declan’s arms are around my middle pulling me back into his lap as he sits on the shower floor. His arms close around me and I bury my face into the side of his neck while I cry.

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you. I promise I’ve got you.” His voice catches and I feel him suck in a shaky breath.

“What...what if he was  _ inside of me _ , Declan? What if he...what if he didn’t just…”

His hands reach up to pull my head back so I’m looking at him. The water from the shower is raining down on us and I realize he’s still wearing his undershirt and boxers. He’s got tears in his eyes but the look on his face is determined and full of love. “You will make it through. We will make it through it.” He smooths my hair out of my face and leans his forehead on mine. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. I’ve got you. Whatever he did or didn’t do doesn’t change that. Okay?”

I blink and I can see the depth of his love for me in his blue eyes so I decide to trust in that and in him. “Okay.”

It’s about a week later that we find out that the  _ only _ DNA inside of me was Declan’s. While I know Twitchy ejaculated on me and touched me in places I don’t want to think about, the feeling of relief to know he wasn’t  _ inside  _ of me is astronomical. Years later I will still have no memory of what happened. I was right, he injected me with ketamine, and those memories are, thankfully by my way of thinking, stolen by the effects of the drug.

Declan finishes the last bit of cleaning at my apartment with Amanda’s help. When I tell him I don’t think I can go back there he doesn’t hesitate, he just takes care of it, and after that, I never have to. I’ve settled into life living with Declan and all of the simple things of living with a person you genuinely love and respect make me happy. Waking up cuddled into him in the morning. The way he uses his glasses to tame his messy hair when he’s been running his hands through it too much. How his nose crinkles when I suggest something he might not want to do. Always the way he smells. And thousands of other things that make me smile every single day I’m with him. 

That’s not to say we don’t argue or disagree, because we do. But he never calls me names. Never tries to intimidate or dominate me. And not once has he ever done anything to disrespect me as a woman in general or his partner in life.

Three weeks after my thumb dislocation the ortho discontinues my rigid splint and refers me to hand therapy. I still can’t work, he has concerns, rightly so, that I can’t be trusted not to use the hand if I need to get involved in treating a patient. So until the therapist releases me he won’t let me go back to work. I’m lying in bed with Declan that night complaining about it while he’s reading some Stephen King book. 

His arm is around me and I’m half lying on him with my chin on his shoulder and he turns his head to put the book on the nightstand. When he turns back to look at me something about him in those black framed glasses of his makes my heart skip a beat and I feel myself getting wet. We haven’t been intimate in any meaningful way since the night before Twitchy took me and I find that I need him inside of me. I know it won’t magically heal anything but I need to restore that connection to Declan.

Declan smiles as I straddle and lie over him chest to chest. “I know that look, darlin’.”

I hum against his lips as I kiss him. “Do you now?”

“That I do, lass.” He turns the Irish accent on me and I melt.

My heart starts to race as his tongue explores my mouth and his hands reach up to tangle in my hair. I feel my pussy aching for him and grind against his hardening cock. Declan trails his hands over my shoulders and down my back until they slide under my sleep shorts and cup my ass. When I whimper against his mouth he stops and brings his hands back up to my face.

“I love you, darlin’. You know I’m not going to push you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“God Declan, I love you too, but please, please, I need to feel you inside me.”

That seems to be all he needs to hear because he makes quick work of what little clothing we’re wearing. His hands caress every bit of skin he touches and when we’re naked he brings his knees up while his hips shift until his cock is sliding through my wet lips and into me. I suck in a breath at the feel of him, he feels so good, and there are so many emotions swirling in me that I still over him. My body needs a chance to remember what he feels like. It hasn’t been that long but it feels like it’s been forever. I felt like the connection I have to him was broken and in that moment I know it never was. It never could be, but it will still take time for me to heal.

Once the shaking I didn’t realize started subsides I look at him. His blue eyes are worried and I smooth a hand over his cheek and kiss him. “It’s alright, I’m okay.” 

My hips rock and he stays mostly still, letting me set the pace and take the lead this time. This is for me and he is more than willing to let me take from him what I need. His hands trail over my skin, in the way he knows I like, and he kisses me with the passion of a man who has found his soulmate. 

Because that’s what we are. He’s my touchstone, the only man in my life who I’ve felt truly safe and free with. I love him more than I have words to describe and I pour that into the movement of my body. Declan tenses under me and hisses in a breath when my body convulses around him. It’s a quiet, intense orgasm, the kind that comes from high emotion and it feels amazing. 

We stay like that for a long time after our orgasms subside. Kissing and just breathing each other in until he rolls us over and makes love to me again. I’ve never felt more loved or cherished in my life.

When I go back to work it takes time before I’m not antsy on the subway. My eyes are constantly looking around, suspicious of any man who even glances at me. I can’t say that I’m afraid per se, but I’m much warier than I was. The therapist I’m seeing assures me this is perfectly normal. I don’t want to live in fear of what might happen but Declan starts texting me when he leaves the squad to get on the subway. We make other arrangements if for some reason he’s going to be late. But there are no more Twitchy’s.

There’s a trial six months after I was kidnapped, and Twitchy, whose real name I hear but never learn, is found guilty of a laundry list of things. More victims were found, but it’s only myself and the girl who worked with the sketch artist, who survived. At least we know he will never get out of prison to hurt another woman.

Declan and I marry after we’ve been together for a year. Neither of us feels the need for a big wedding so we just go to the courthouse and have a huge party at Conor’s pub afterward. Conor is more than happy to be the host. I find out then that the favor Declan did for him so long ago was to find his daughter. She’d gone missing when she got involved with the wrong man. We’re family now. That’s how the Irish do it, he tells me. 

A few months after we get married I get pregnant with our one and only child. Amanda and I are actually pregnant at the same time, though her baby belongs to her doctor boyfriend. She gives birth to another little girl, Billie, and breaks up with the doctor. I give birth to a little boy who we name Kiernan.

I continue to be amazed by Declan over the years as we grow older. He’s the kind of man you wait a lifetime for and spend another lifetime loving. Our son grows up in a house full of laughter and love knowing his father is an amazingly humble and loving man. To my dying breath and beyond I love that man and I know the depth of his love for me. He’ll have my back for as long as our souls are connected.  

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work kudos are appreciated. If you love it comments are wonderful. If you have constructive criticism or questions let's talk. If you leave blatantly rude or negative comments, know that no hate is allowed here and will be deleted. And if you read my work and are too shy to interact right now, know that's okay too.
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr at https://rooker-character-fics.tumblr.com for any Michael Rooker characters (including Merle and Yondu) and https://too-many-fanfiction-fandoms.tumblr.com for other fandoms I write. Sometimes I take requests there, check my blog header to determine if I am taking them.
> 
> Just a general A/N regarding all of my work: Please understand that I update when writing inspiration hits. I never intend on abandoning an unfinished fic, so know that if I do I'll eventually get back to it when inspiration strikes again.


End file.
